


The Second Dorm To The Right

by 0KKULTiC



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, All sorts of college antics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, College, Crying, Fantasy, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I am bad at math, Implied SanGi, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Kids, Lots of Crying, M/M, Peter Pan AU, Romance, it gets like DISGUSTINGLY romantic gag inducing, seonghwa is very very lame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 112,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: As Park Seonghwa enters his third year of college, he starts getting weird dreams. In his visions, he sees flashes of red hair and fairy dust. He always thought of the dreams as nothing more than passing visions, his subconscious's attempt at sending him some obscure message.But, then, why do those dreams feel so real?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // this work is unbeta'd and will contain increased errors. thank you for understanding.

Once upon a time, there lived a boy in a faraway land.

The mischievous spirit led a band of fellow vagabonds. Wayward souls much like his own: young and misguided, unwanted and uncaring. Their bold leader gave the group a name: the lost boys. Together, these lost boys explored the reaches of Neverland. 

They trekked through perilous jungles riddled with boobytraps and sailed the high seas. Using just a  _ sprinkle _ of fairy dust, they soared through the sky, flying to the moon and back. Together the lost boys hunted for treasure and rescued princesses. When they were hungry, they picked fruit fresh from the towering palms and feasted on the sticky, supple flesh. On days during which the sun beamed down too harshly, they bathed beneath the rainforest’s cool waterfalls.

The lost boys did as they pleased when they pleased, only deferring from their pleasure to keep evil at bay. They only had a single rule to follow:

Never grow up.

And so they didn’t, for the magic of the place allowed it to be so. So long as they dwelled in that enchanted land, they would not grow up. 

They lived like that for as long as it pleased them, led by the boy with hair the color of fire. Never to know unhappiness. Never to know oppression.

Never to grow up.

* * *

“Get out,” the boy snarls at Seonghwa. For the life of him, Seonghwa cannot understand why. _ Why? _

Hot tears stream down the older boy’s face, “But- But Hongjoong-” 

“I said get out!” The other shouts again. His face is angry, cheeks tinted a blazing red nearly matching the fiery tones of his hair. 

“What did I do?” Seonghwa asks, his voice thick. “Hongjoong, please, just tell me, what did I do?”

“You- You can’t be here anymore,” Hongjoong’s voice sounds thick, and his chest heaves as he struggles to remain composed. It’s clear that Hongjoong is laboring to keep it together.

“But- But why, Hongjoong?” Tears sear Seonghwa’s skin as they roll down his swollen cheeks.

Nothing makes sense anymore. He can’t hear the crickets chirping him nor see the fireflies’ light. The silhouettes of the trees in the moonlight no longer look like trees at all but some sort of insinuation of a tree. It’s as if someone had to draw a tree from description alone having never seen one in life. Even the air stilled into almost suffocating stagnation.

“Just leave already,” The redhead demands loudly, angrily. Misery radiates off of him - Seonghwa had never seen him like this in his entire time knowing the boy. “Don’t you get it? You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“B-But Hongjoong, I- I don’t understand,” Seonghwa cries. “I don’t understand, I- I’m one of the lost boys, aren’t I? After all our adventures? All the times I saved you and- and you saved me?”

The redhead’s eyes dart away for a second, “None of that matters anymore. You can’t be here now.”

The world around Seonghwa starts to crumble. One by one, each star in the sky dims until eventually fading into black. Even the moonlight dulls. Shadows begin to envelop the forest, obscuring Hongjoong more with each passing second.

“C-Can’t you tell me why?” The black-haired boy begs. “What did I do? I’ll- I’ll take it back. I’ll do anything, Hongjoong. Anything.”

“You… You can’t take this back,” There’s almost nothing left of him, of Hongjoong. It’s like the shadows are just eating him up. Seonghwa squints, but it doesn’t help. When did it become so dark? Where is everything? The light? The sounds? The nighttime breeze?

“Hongjoong, please- I can’t-”

“You have to leave this place now,” Hongjoong’s voice is the last thing Seonghwa hears, and all he can see is one last flash of that red hair before everything fades to black.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa cries out into the darkness.

There’s no answer.

“Hongjoong?”

  
Still no answer.

“H… Hongjoong?” His voice is tiny, nothing but a pathetic squeak.

No answer.

Sorrow overtakes Seonghwa. It grips him and squeezes with a merciless vice. Every tear and sob he’d kept inside pours out through his eyes, nose, and lips. He surrenders to the pain, dropping onto his knees and burying his face in his hands. It feels as if the ground itself shifts beneath him until it swallows him whole.

* * *

“Wake up sleepyhead!”

Seonghwa practically hits the ceiling as he jolts up. He blinks confusedly, head whipping around manically. When the bleariness clears from his eyes, he finds the culprit standing in his doorway.

“ _ Mom _ ,” Seonghwa groans, wringing a hand down his face. He paws at his phone on the nightstand. It’s just past seven in the morning. “Wh… Why…? So early...” Forming sentences is still a bit of a struggle at this hour.

“I only get a few more hours before I send you off to the wolves,” She replies, giddily skipping to Hwa’s side. She perches on his bed, reaching out to squeeze his cheek. “How’s it feel to wake up a  _ college student _ ?”

Hwa groans, “Mom I’ve been a college student for two years already. Do we still have to do this every time I go back to the dorms?”

“Yes,” She grins. “You know you and I only have a couple of years left of this. Sure, it sounds like a lot to you, but before we know it, those years will be gone.”

“Mom-”

“And you’ll be going off, getting a job. No doubt getting married, giving me a few beautiful grandchildren-”

“Mom-”

“I’m thinking three- two boys and a girl. At least one girl, please. I’d love to spoil a baby girl…”

“ _ Mom _ !” Seonghwa huffs. “I’m twenty-one, not thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one will be here before you know it!” She smacks her son lightly on the shoulder. “Stop growing up so fast! Gosh it feels like just yesterday you were twelve years old. Time flies too fast...”

“Thank you for reminding me of my mortality, mother,” Seonghwa replies. “I love being reminded that every second I spend alive is one step closer to death.”

“Oh my god- why are you millenials so dark?!”

“You tell me. You’re the one who raised me,” Hwa sasses. 

“I suppose it does explain the dramatic flair,” She concedes with a grin. “Alright, you know the drill. Get dressed so we can get a nice, big breakfast!” She hops off the bed but before walking toward the door, her brows furrow. She leans in and inspects her son’s face more closely. “Honey, have you been snacking late again?”

“Wha-? No,” Seonghwa responds confusedly.

His mom’s lips purse with perturbation, “Your face looks a bit puffy, sweetheart.”

“It- It does?” Seonghwa pats his cheeks. They do feel slightly agitated. His eyes feel sore, too. 

“My face roller’s in the fridge, you can borrow it if you like,” She waves dismissively as she strides out.

“Thanks!” Seonghwa shouts after her. He silently curses when she walks off, leaving the door open. God, why do parents never close the damn door.

Hwa sighs, letting reality set in for a few minutes. He hovers in that state of half-sleep and tries to remember what he’d dreamed of.

Whatever it was, it was sad. He knows that. He can feel it, the hole in his heart that hadn’t quite mended before he woke up.

* * *

Seonghwa rolls his eyes as he raps on the door. It’s the third time this week that he’s had to “check in” on the guys in suite 302. After the third time, one of them finally opens the door, a sheepish, shit-eating grin on his face. His name is Billy or Bobby or something like that. The skunky stench of weed floats out from the room. 

“Oh. ‘Sup Seonghwa,” The ambiguous “B” guy greets Hwa. “What brings you here at this hour?”

“Four o’ clock rounds,” Seonghwa replies flatly. Being an RA has a lot of perks. Early move-in, compensated meal plan, discount on tuition. However, the job isn’t without its challenges. Its many, many challenges. “The four o’ clock rounds that I do every day. At four o’ clock.”

The red-eyed student lets out a wheeze, “Right. Right, yeah, um. What, uh, what’s up?”

Hwa suppresses the urge to shoot the guy a dirty look, “The dorms have a strict no… ‘Tobacco’ policy.”

Apparently, the guy’s more baked than Seonghwa thought, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time for him to process the other’s words, “No tobacco?”

“No smoking. Period,” Seonghwa glances pointedly past the student into the suite’s common room. A glass apparatus sits plainly on the coffee table, steam billowing up from its mouthpiece. He knows he ought to be more strict, but it’s college for fuck’s sake. Seonghwa tries to be understanding, and he’s all about free expression. College is tough. Everyone copes differently. Just, for fuck’s sake, not in his damn dorms. Weed is beyond illegal, and realistically police would have to get involved if word got out. Seonghwa doesn’t even know where the fuckers get it. If he did, he’d have half a mind to march over to the dealer himself and tell him to stop.

“Right, right. Sorry, Hwa, we’ll, uh, stop,” The student answers with a giggle.

“I’m coming back in fifteen minutes, and if it’s not out, I’m writing you up.”

“Y-Yes,  _ sir _ ,” Bobby (or Billy) coughs out. He shuts the door quickly after, and Seonghwa rolls his eyes. The suite could’ve been written up near a dozen times by now - and it’s only the second week of the semester. They’re damn lucky Seonghwa’s a softie with a hippie streak. 

Weed.

Fuck’s sake. At least put the stuff in a vape. Or go to something easy to hide like booze or cocaine.

“Christ,” Seonghwa hisses at himself. He wrings a hand through his ashy blond hair. Did he really just think that? Once upon a time, the idea of drugs was something scary and abstract. Only villainous criminals abused drugs, sketchy types who wear trench coats and try to lure kids into alleys. Now he’s excusing their use, writing it off like it’s nothing. Because, to him, he supposes it  _ is _ nothing. 

He supposes he’s one of the lucky ones in that regard. Aside from the occasional wild night out, he doesn’t really partake. For some, it genuinely is a crutch, a coping mechanism. And how sad is that? To think that people used to be happy-go-lucky, that they didn’t have to rely on a substance as a crutch. 

Guess that’s what happens when you grow up.

Times change, people change,  _ you _ change.

Seonghwa chastises himself for the tangent. Pessimistic thoughts can wait for later, he thinks as he knocks on the next door.

* * *

San bats Mingi’s hand away playfully, “Fuck off. If you wanted nuggets, why didn’t you get your own?”

Mingi grins widely from his spot at the table, “Because I didn’t want my own nuggets-” He reaches out for San’s again, “-I wanted yours.”

Seonghwa laughs as he watches the two play-wrestle for a few chicken nuggets. It’s not often their schedules align. He met San sophomore year in an intro to psychology course. The two happened to sit together, and on the first day San leaned over and asked: “When do we learn about why I wanna fuck my stepdad?”

They became fast friends after that.

Seonghwa met Mingi through San, and they both met Yunho through Mingi. Jongho was partnered with Seonghwa for an intro to physics course. At first, it shocked Hwa to see someone so young at university, but Jongho explained that he commutes and the credits count toward his last year of high school. Yeosang lived on Seonghwa’s floor after transferring for the second semester of Hwa’s second year. Seonghwa found himself hanging out in Yeosang’s room a lot which is how he came to known Wooyoung, Yeo’s childhood friend.

It’s funny to think about how the lives of seven people can intertwine. It all seems so random, and if one little detail or connection had gone differently, would they even be friends at all? Seonghwa doesn’t like to entertain that thought. As they went from acquaintances to tight-knit friends, Seonghwa found himself leaning on the others more and more. Now he can’t imagine a life without them.

The seven of them laze around a table at the slightly less shitty of the late-night dining halls. It’s near midnight, and students mill about in sweats and pajamas, hair thrown up in buns and no-fucks-given ponytails. Wooyoung hadn’t even bothered taking off his fluffy pink headband, and Yeosang fell back on his reliable beanie to cover his mop. 

Hwa laughs at the other’s antics as they make a scene over chicken nuggets. 

A flash of red dots his peripheral vision.

Without thinking, Seonghwa’s eyes follow it. It’s just a second, but he sees it. Or more properly, them. It’s a person. For sure, it’s a person. Red hair, perhaps? Or a red hood? A red shirt? Seonghwa wonders about what he saw. He’s not sure why, but the impression left by that instant persistently itches at the back of his mind. He wracks it in hopes of figuring out what he’d seen. For what reason, he can’t say. It just bothers him.

“-Hwa?” Yeosang’s voice penetrates Seonghwa’s thinking.

“Hm?” Seonghwa snaps out of it.

Yeo quirks an eyebrow, “Thinking about something?” The others catch on and look on, intrigued.

“Hm? Oh, no. I just thought I saw-” Saw what? Saw what? “Someone.”

“You… Thought you saw someone?” Yeosang asks dryly.

“Yeah, like- Wh- Don’t give me that look,” Seonghwa’s cheeks tint red, “I just- I swear I saw red hair, like really red hair. It was like a firetruck-”

“Ah,” Yeosang’s befuddled expression blossoms into a massive grin, “There it is.”

“You and your redheads,” San snorts.

“Wh- No, guys- That is not what I meant!” Seonghwa argues, affronted. The callout is not appreciated.

“Mhm,” Wooyoung hums doubtfully. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jongho adds with a laugh.

Hwa gapes, “Wha- Are you serious I- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Hmm,” Yeosang smirks. “I dunno. Maybe because of… Taeyong?”

San snorts, “I was gonna say Miya.”

Seonghwa glares at them, “Oh, okay, so I- I was involved with two redheads-”

“No, you _crushed_ on them,” Jongho corrects him. “You lusted after Taeyong who - let’s all be real - is  _ way _ too good for you-”

“Fuck you!”

“-and Miya is gay. Like. Super gay,” Jongho continues, ignoring his elder rudely. “Honestly how did you _not_ get that?”

“I’m an optimist who believes in the fluidity of sexuality,” Seonghwa replies keenly.

“Didn’t you lust after your one TA, too,” Mingi adds. “Jooheon?”

Wooyoung claps and laughs squeakily, “We called him Joohoney- I remember that!”

“Okay,” Seonghwa sighs resignedly.

Woo unapologetically fans the flames, “There was, um, who’s that one guy from the b-boy club? Daniel?”

“Oh.” “Yes!” “He’s hot as fuck.”

Hwa huffs, “Okay-”

Yeo laughs, “You told me your one ex- Youngmin? He had red hair when you dated him-”

  
“That’s enough!” Seonghwa throws a chopstick at Yeosang. Sure, he’s down a chopstick, but the little stick of wood hits Yeo square in the face. Worth it. “So what if I think red hair’s a good look. It’s a good look, fuck off!”

“At least you admit it,” Yeosang chuckles.

Jongho shakes his head, “I’m making a mental note never to dye my hair red. I don’t think I could deal with you being all over me.”

“Yes because that is what would happen,” Seonghwa snarks. “The second red dye touches your hair, I’d fall madly in love with you.”

“God forbid you go to Ireland,” Mingi snarks. 

“Psh, I wish,” Seongha sighs. “Because a vacation would be nice! Not because I have a redhead fetish! You weirdos.” He looks down at his bowl of rice dejectedly. Maybe throwing the chopstick wasn’t his finest move.

Seonghwa dejectedly gets up to get another set, his head filled with the idea of a vacation somewhere far, far way. Ireland. It’d never stuck out to him in particular, but he’s seen it in documentaries and such. It’s a little, green island with rolling hills as far as the eye can see.

A place like that must be peaceful. He can picture it vividly, the expanse of green, overgrown fields dancing in the wind giving way to the washing waves of the sea.

* * *

Seonghwa’s heart clenches with panic. He squeezes his eyes shut and clings to the red-haired boy for his life. His stomach flips as they go higher, higher, higher. This can’t be real, he tells himself.  _ This can’t be real _ . Of course it’s not real. None of this can possibly be real. 

Except, when Seonghwa cautiously opens one eye, he’s not looking at the ceiling of his bedroom. No. His heart drops to his feet. Or perhaps it drops lower, beyond them onto the ground far, far below. Buildings carpet the ground beneath him like little patches spotted with pocks of light. Around him is nothing but crisp night air, illuminated by bright moonlight. And, of course, there’s the boy.

He giggles mirthfully, “I told you, you can let go.” Specks of fairy dust twinkle in the moonlight.

“N-No way,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “I’m not letting go. This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Actually, I’m Hongjoong,” He grins ear to ear at the silly joke.

“I don’t care who you are or- or what you are. What  _ are _ you?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “I’m just a lost boy from Neverland.”

“Wh- Come on, are you serious?”

“Are  _ you _ serious?” Hongjoong fires back. “Seonghwa, you’re flying.”

“What? No, this is all some kind of an illusion or something,” Seonghwa responds, burying his face in the other’s chest again.

“An illusion, huh?” Hongjoong sounds more amused than ever. “In that case, it wouldn’t be a problem if…” He lays a hand on top of Seonghwa’s and digs his fingers beneath the black-haired boy’s. “You let go.”

“Huh? No! No!” Seonghwa panics, trying to squeeze harder, but Hongjoong caught him off guard.

The redhead pries Hwa's grip off of himself and roughly shoves Seonghwa. The older boy screams shrilly. His limbs flail futilely as he readies himself for free fall. This is it, he tells himself. This is how he dies. Falling to his death - probably crashing through the roof of some poor, unsuspecting family. What a headline that’ll be: It’s Raining Ten Year Old Boys! 

Except, instead of cracking bones and crashing buildings, Seonghwa hears gut-splitting laughter. He hesitantly pries his eyes open. When he blinks the tears away, there isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel or the roof of a building. It’s just Hongjoong, hunched over in the air, laughing so much that tears well up in his eyes and his nose scrunches.

It slowly dawns on Seonghwa.

He can fly.

_ He can fly. _

He’s flying _ right now. _

“I… I’m flying,” Seonghwa mutters with disbelief.

“I told you,” Hongjoong replies with a smile.

Seonghwa looks down at himself and he recognizes the same twinkle that Hongjoong has. Fairy dust.

Hwa lets out a laugh, “I can fly!” He tests out movement a bit. It’s weird at first. He feels wobbly and unsure. He ends up awkwardly flipping and flopping.

Thankfully, Hongjoong takes pity on him and extends a hand, “Here,” He says with a giggle, “Just stick with me until you get it.”

“O-Okay,” Seonghwa takes the other’s offer, lacing their fingers together and holding on tightly. 

Led by the other, Hwa feels at ease. Soon, all of his nerves disappear. Whenever he gets too nervous looking around, he trains his eyes on the redhaired boy guiding him. 

He looks so pretty, glowing in the moonlight, like a precious gem or a night-blooming flower.

* * *

Seonghwa scrambles to find his phone. He was studying at his desk when its trill reminded him that he’d been looking at his screen for too damn long. After scattering papers that he’d strewn about his desk, Seonghwa finds his phone serving as a bookmark in one of his texts books.

He slides the arrow icon and answers, “Hello?”

“Hello, Seonghwa. It’s me. Your mother. You know, the one who gave birth do you?”

Oh god.

“Hi mom, what’s up?” Seonghwa swivels in his wheeled chair idly.

“What’s up? My son hasn’t called me in ages is what’s up! And do I need a reason to call you, really?”

It can’t have been that long. He glances at the date on his computer.

“Mom,” Seonghwa replies, “It’s been, like, a week.”

“It has been a week and two days, precisely.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes even though he’s smiling. “It’s been busy lately.”

“I know, I know dear. College is a very hectic time. Still! I want to know you’re doing okay!” She scolds him.

“Yes, mom.”

“So… How is my son doing?”

What is he supposed to say to that? That he sleeps an average of four hours a night because of midterms? That he goes days where the one meal he eats is instant noodles? That coffee might actually be replacing his blood at this point? That what sleep he does get is often interrupted by weird nightmares?

“I’m doing good!” He answers brightly. “Just studying, you know. I have two midterms this week, then another the next week.”

“Oh my. I know studying is important, but don’t forget to rest, too.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yes, mom.”

“And you are getting enough sleep?”

“Yes, mom.”

“How are your friends doing?” 

“Yes, mom.”

“See any good shows lately?”

“Yes, mom.”

“You’re not paying attention at all, are you?”

“Yes, mom.”

A deep sigh through the speaker informs Seonghwa that he’d said something wrong. He blinks confusedly, not immediately understanding that he zoned out.

“S-Sorry,” Seonghwa mutters sheepishly into the receiver. “Like I said, two exams this week. I was skimming a textbook.” That’s a lie, but she can’t prove otherwise.

“Oh, dear. I hope you don’t space out like that in class.”

He definitely does.

“I don’t. I like to take notes by hand,” Seonghwa says.

“Good to hear. Ah, my son. You know you can be so spacy sometimes.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Not anymore!” His mom laughs. “You used to be terrible. You know we were really worried about you when you were a kid.”

“Wh- Come on. I was not that bad.”

“You don’t remember, but I do. It started when you were nine, maybe ten. You slept for ages and- god- you zoned out so much. We really thought something happened to your brain.”

“Wh- Mom. You did not.”

“Yes, we did! We thought about getting you looked at!”

“Oh my god, that’s so dramatic.”

“Honey, you would zone out for hours, sometimes. If you weren’t at school or one of your sports clubs, it was like- you’d just sit in one place and stare out your window. Nothing could stir you, and I mean  _ nothing _ .”

“Okay I- I know I daydreamed a lot as a kid, but that sounds exaggerated.”

“It’s not, I am serious. It was like- like your body was in one place, but your mind wasn’t. Like your spirit just left your body.”

“That’s nice.”

“I’m telling you, it’s true! Thank god you snapped out of it. It was a scary couple of years.”

“ _ Scary _ ? Mother-”

“Seonghwa! Stop making your mother worry all the time!”

“Mom, I’m starting to worry about you…” He laughs. It’s nice to hear from her. A little pang of guilt knocks at him. He really should be more mindful of calling her. In spite of his promise to not engage in worrisome behavior, he ends up doing just what she’d lamented before: he zones out.

Was he really that bad as a kid?

Why doesn’t he remember that?

* * *

A steady beat echoes from the crowd of drum players across the fire. Happy dancers sway to the beat, and by their sides are a couple of the bolder lost boys moved with them. Tribe elders animatedly spin stories with big hand gestures and bigger laughter. Yummy meat and sticky sweets heap on top of massive wooden platters, and even the steam coming off of the food looks like it’s dancing with jubilance.

The centerpiece of it all sits atop a finely carved throne by the fire, draped with laurels and donning a crown of flowers. The beautiful Princess Tiger Lily giggles happily and claps along with the drummers. The lost boys rescued her, and in celebration, her tribe decided to hold a glorious feast. Of course, her brave rescuers _had_ to be the guests of honor. After Seonghwa had his fill to eat and danced until he felt his feet might fall off, he took a seat by the fire.

The black-haired boy claps happily, staring idly into the blazing fire. It’s been a long day of adventure. They had to ambush the evil pirate captain’s crew to apprehend the princess. Things can never be easy for the lost boys, though. Swords crossed and wills clashed. But, as always, good triumphed, and the princess was saved. Now Seonghwa’s limbs feel heavy, and his eyelids start to droop.

He checks around the fire to find his fellow lost boys. A couple dance while another few have taken to joining the drummers. One of them has already gotten ahead of Seonghwa and snoozes away by one of the teepees. His gaze finds the princess Tiger Lily yet again, and a familiar pop of brilliant red rouses his attention.

Hongjoong’s eyes catch Seonghwa’s, and he returns Hwa’s look with one of his brilliant smiles. He has such a nice smile. Sometimes - though he’d never, ever admit it - it makes Seonghwa’s guts toss and turn with jealousy. He doesn’t like his smile. But Hongjoong has such a nice one. It’s the kind of smile that lights up everything around it. Hwa’s gaze shifts over once again to Tiger Lily. She’s about their age. Her face is round and she has long eyelashes. She also has a pretty smile. Does Hongjoong think so, too?

As if he can almost read Hwa’s mind, Hongjoong starts walking toward Seonghwa. He plops down happily next to the black-haired boy, crossing his legs and rocking back and forth.

“So,” Hongjoong says.

“So?” Seonghwa laughs.

“Whatcha doin’?” The redhead replies.

“Sitting.”

“How come you’re sitting talking to nobody?”

“Oh, you know. Just chillin’.”

“By the blazing fire.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Seonghwa laughs.

“Seonghwa, is something the matter?” Hongjoong’s grin falls into a rare expression of seriousness. He always prefers to keep things happy, lighthearted, good and fun. But sometimes even he can tone it down.

Hwa’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head emphatically, “No, no nothing’s wrong at all! I mean, we, like, fed a guy to a crocodile. So that’s a thing to think about.”

“He was a bad guy, he deserves it. And he didn’t get eaten! Just got, like, sampled.”

Seonghwa giggles, “Sampled?”

“That croc took one bite of his butt and decided against it.”

“He probably tasted gross. All salty from the sea and everything.”

“Yeah, ugh. Like salt and sweat.”

“Oh- Ew! Blugh!” The two make gagging noises, dramatically fake-heaving until the dramatics devolve into a fit of laughter. The two fall onto the ground and laugh and laugh and laugh until it hurts too much.

Seonghwa sniffles, wiping his eyes as he splays out on the ground. Hongjoong does the same, and their gazes meet as their heads cock to the side. Firelight traces the other’s frame, making him glow like a fairy. Even if he’s not a fairy, Hongjoong is definitely magical. Seonghwa is sure of that.

“Do you think Princess Tiger Lily is cute?” The words just throw themselves out of Seonghwa’s mouth before he can even properly think of them. What the heck?

Hongjoong’s face falls, and his brows knit together confusedly, “Princess Tiger Lily?” He glances at her for a second. A ghost of a frown tugs at his lips. At least, Seonghwa thinks he sees it. It could be a trick of the fire. The leader replies with a genial grin, “Princess Tiger Lily is very cute! I like the flowers in her hair, they’re super pretty, aren't they? And they smell good.”

Seonghwa’s throat feels dry, and he nods numbly. Even though he’s barely eleven, kids in school have been whispering about crushes for years. How long will it be until everyone starts pairing off and getting boyfriends and girlfriends? To be honest, the whole thing seems like a hassle to Seonghwa. Being friends is fun enough! He’s definitely not interested in that stuff. But what about Hongjoong?

“You’re cute, too, Seonghwa!” Hongjoong beams. 

Hwa’s face turns into an expression of shock, and heat flushes to his face. 

Joong laughs, “Why would you ask something like that, anyway?”

Suddenly, Seonghwa feels like the biggest idiot on the plant. He fidgets with his fingers awkwardly and fumbles through his truthful response.

“W-Well, like- In school you know people are already… They have crushes and stuff, you know. Like, girlfriend, boyfriends…”

“Girl… Friends? Boyfriends?” Hongjoong’s nose scrunches with puzzlement. “I- I don’t get it. I have boy and girl friends. There are lots of nice people in Neverland. Well, except for the pirates. And the mermaids, they're, like super evil.”

“N-No, like,” Seonghwa wishes the earth could swallow him up. He’s not gonna lie to Hongjoong, either, though. He trusts Hongjoong with his life. He’s helped Hwa out of so many sticky situations. He taught him how to fly. If anyone would understand, it’s Hongjoong. “Like, holding hands and- and-” His voice gets so low, even he can barely hear it, “-kissing. Gross adultey kinda stuff-”

Hongjoong’s eyes blow wide open. Seonghwa’s glad the other gets it, but before he can elaborate more, a tiny hand closes around his arm. Joong drags Hwa off of his feet and marches off into the woods. 

“Wha- Wait, Hongjoong where are we going?” Seonghwa asks. Hongjoong doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps on walking. They trudge through the forest, between tall trees and fat shrubs. Seonghwa practically trips a couple of times. It’s not until the fire is just a tiny flicker in the distance that they stop.

“H-Hongjoong,” Seonghwa hunches over to catch his breath. “What the heck is going on. Where- where are we? What are you doing-”

“Do you- do you wanna kiss Princess Tiger Lily?” The redhead asks demandingly, jabbing a finger at Seonghwa’s chest.

“What- No. What the- did you drag me out here just to ask me that?”

“But you were talking about the- all the ‘crush’ and the- the kissing-”

“What do you- I mean- No I was asking you that. If- If you, well, you know...”

Hongjoong’s face darkens. Even the air around him seems to chill. There’s no trace of the bubbly, bold leader. He leers at Seonghwa with a serious voice.

“No,” The redhead responds in a low voice. “That’s against the rules.”

“Huh?”

“The rules, Seonghwa. You know the  _ one rule _ of Neverland.”

“The- the rule?”

“All that stuff the- the holding hands, the kissing.”

“Being in love?” Seonghwa tries to clarify.

“That’s for grown ups,” Hongjoong says. “And there’s no place in Neverland for that stuff, got it?”

“You can’t- you’re not allowed to be in love?” It’s not that Seonghwa even wants to, but hearing that he just can’t gives him a weird pain in the chest.

“No. Never,” Hongjoong says insistently. He steps forward and grabs Seonghwa’s hands. “Never ever. You have to promise me, okay?”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll never fall in love. Never ever  _ ever _ ,” He lets go of Hwa’s hands to hold out his pinky. “You gotta pinky promise me. You’ll never fall in love- not even a little bit.”

Seonghwa eyes the other’s pink dubiously. 

“But why?” It’s not like he’s a big romantic. He can’t stand when mama makes him sit through dramas or sappy movies. Kissing scenes gross him out half the time, and all the old married couples he knows can barely stand each other. But still, the prospect of just never falling in love ever…

Is that really a promise he can keep?

“Because,” Hongjoong replies, voice thicker than before, “Then you’ll have to leave, and I don’t want you to leave, Seonghwa. I don’t want to lose you. So please- please, you gotta promise.”

Seonghwa hesitantly lifts his hand, eyes darting between Hongjoong’s extended pinky and his wet eyes. 

“Seonghwa,  _ please _ ,” The leader - always so confident, so resilient and charismatic and unaffected - sounds desperate. And how can Seonghwa deny his dear friend? The one who taught him how to fly? Who’s taken him on so many adventures, adventures he could only dream of.

Seonghwa locks his pinky with Hongjoong’s.

“I promise you,” Seonghwa says, confidently meeting the other’s gaze. “No- No crush or dating, girlfriends, boyfriends, none of that. Hongjoong, I’m never gonna grow up. We’re gonna be together forever.”

“Forever,” Hongjoong repeats with a nod. He smiles again - thank goodness he smiles. The sight brings so much relief to Seonghwa, it makes him smile.

* * *

“This is taking forever,” Mingi whines, plopping his head on the table. He and Seonghwa happened to have a similar gap in their schedules, so they use the time between classes to study together at the library. Or pretend to study, at least. Usually, their “study sessions” are primarily made up of Hwa trying to do homework and Mingi eating snacks while scrolling SNS.

“What is?” Seonghwa asks the other without looking up from his screen.

“This problem,” Mingi groans. “The homework is deceptive. There are forty-five questions, but then each question is, like: question part A, question part B, question part C, part E…”

“Well, I imagine it’s really just parts building on each other,” Hwa shrugs. He’s a tad more focused on reminding himself that neutrinos aren’t the Italian cousin of neutrons. “They’re probably, like, all the same type of problem. Or mostly. It’s probably more tedious than anything.”

“Thanks, professor,” Hwa can hear the pout in Mingi’s voice. He opts to ignore it, though. Mingi’s got a bratty streak, and Seonghwa refuses to indulge that. Mostly. “Wh- Oh, Oh. Oh- oh-” Suddenly, the younger one starts batting Seonghwa’s arm frenziedly from across the table.

“Wha- What the fuck, Mingi? What?”

“Shh- Shhh-”

“What-”

“Shhh!” Mingi hushes him insistently. “Okay,” His voice drops into a whisper, and his pupils flit around suspiciously. “Okay, don’t look, but there’s a hottie at your, uh…”

“A what at my what?”

“At your, like seven.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Seonghwa’s face squashes with bafflement.

“There is a hottie at your seven. A hottie. Hot person. Hot guy. A hot guy is at your seven. Your seven, you know like, behind you. Clock positions- How do you not know this have you not seen a spy movie?!”

“I- I have I was just confused!” Seonghwa loud-whispers back.

“Well, don’t make it obvious and look or anything, but- Like, he’s by a bookshelf right now. I think he’s checking you out.”

Seonghwa’s heart does a flip, “Serious?”

“Serious. Totally your type, too. Pretty face, oh, and red hair.”

“You’re not playing, right?” He wouldn’t put it past Mingi.

“Wh- Dude, I am serious. I would never joke about something as serious as getting your dick wet.”

“Thank you, Mingi,” Hwa replies facetiously. 

“But, like, if you’re not interested,” Mingi shrugs, smirking, “I’ll take him. He’s cute.”

“Fuck off. Bold of you to imply you don’t have a huge crush on San.”

“Wha- I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too. Mingi you’re not subtle-”

“Shut up, he’s moving.”

“Who’s moving? San is moving?”

“No, idiot, the hot guy. Shit, I think he’s walking closer. Head down, head down-” Mingi actually pushes Seonghwa’s head further into his laptop - like that’s necessary. Seonghwa opens his mouth to curse his junior, but then a petite, lithe form passes by their table. They’re dressed simply. Jeans and a sweater, but the fit is impeccable - the jeans fit nice and the sweater sags in a comely way that shows off just how small the person is. Just as Mingi described, the look is topped off with a head of strawberry red hair. Except, it’s not highly saturated nor deep like Hwa tends to go for. Instead, it’s sort of a soft, springy tone. Seonghwa realizes he thinks that’s very nice, too. It provides a soft contrast for the person’s pretty porcelain skin.

Hwa has never met someone with hair color like that before - so why does the person seem so damn familiar? Did he live on Seonghwa’s floor at some point? Or maybe they had a class together? Has he seen him at a club?

“Huh-” Mingi mutters dumbly when Seonghwa bursts up out of his chair. The older’s legs seem to move of their own volition, really. “Wh- Seonghwa, are you serious?” Mingi sounds amused.

“I- I think I know him,” Hwa mutters, waving vaguely to Mingi as he slowly approaches the other, “I’ll be right back.” The last thing he hears out of Mingi is a snort before he follows the mysterious redhead into another section of the library.

The pretty figure turns a corner, and Seonghwa picks up speed. When he rounds the towering bookshelf, he gasps. The redhead is gone. All Hwa sees is a few disturbed specks of dust catching the sunlight. It's funny, how something as inane as disturbed dust can look like glitter in the right lighting. Still, it does nothing to point Hwa in the direction of the redhead.

Where the heck did he go?

A pang of sadness hits Seonghwa. He can’t tell why. Really it was nothing. Hell, he probably didn’t even know the dude. But he can’t help it. He feels his heart dip in his chest.

* * *

“Last one to the waterfall’s a rotten egg!” Hongjoong calls out abruptly. Seonghwa jolts up. They’d just docked their enchanted airship after once again thwarting the evil pirates from a nefarious fairy theft attempt. The lost boys exchange a few looks - but only for an instant. Hongjoong bolts, and in a flash everyone follows.

The crowd of rabble-rousers laugh and shout as they fly over the sandbar into the forest. Bugs and birds whistle happily as the lost boys pass as if invigorated by the wide-eyed energy. It’s such a far departure from when Seonghwa met Hongjoong. Was it a year ago? Goodness, it’s near two, he thinks. He’s almost twelve years old now.

The thought depresses him. After all, twelve is one away from thirteen. That’s a “teen” number, and with that rite of passage come too many questions. First and foremost in his mind: can a lost boy be thirteen, aka: technically a teenager? It’s something that’s passed through Hwa’s mind a few too many times already. He reminds himself that he’s not even twelve, it is way too soon to worry about that. Stubbornly shoving the thoughts aside, he focuses on flying again.

There are so many obstacles in the forest. Tall trees, branches, shrubs, vines… But that’s what makes the race even more fun. Everyone starts to branch off, taking their own, different paths. However, Seonghwa opts not to try for any special shortcuts or detours. Instead, he follows the trail of twinkling fairy dust left by Hongjoong. He can hear the other’s distinctive titter not too far ahead, and soon that signature red hair of his peeks out from between the trees.

“I got you!” Seonghwa shouts.

  
Hongjoong turns around, and his eyes widen, “How’d you know what way I flew?!”

“I’m just that good,” Seonghwa focuses all of his energy on moving forward, and the fairy dust carries him quickly toward the other. “I’m gonna catch you,” he singsongs.

“I don’t think so!” Hongjoong yells behind himself. He picks a fruit off a nearby tree and throws it at Hwa.

“Huh- Hey! You’re playing dirty!”

“Never said there were any rules against using obstacles.”

“Oh, really?” Seonghwa smirks. “In that case, how’s this for an obstacle?” He puts even more thought into pushing forward and he does so, quickly catching up to the other. Hongjoong gasps. It’s too late for him, though. Seonghwa grabs the other’s green shirt and tries to throw him back.

“Wh- Hey! I don’t think so!” Hongjoong laughs, grabbing Hwa’s wrist in one hand and Hwa’s shirt in the other. The two tangle in the air, neither willing to surrender or stop. The waterfall looms in the distance, calmly crashing into the creek below.

“C’mon, give up already!” Seonghwa insists with a giggle.

“Never give up, never surrender!” Hongjoong fires back with a grin. The two whip through the air, a mass of gracelessly flailing limbs and exclaimed taunts. 

  
The waterfall approaches rapidly. It gets closer and closer and closer, and it’s not until they’re at the edge of the clearing that Seonghwa finally notices.

“-m gonna be the winner!” Hwa shouts at the other for the umpteenth time. “I’m gonna- Uh-oh.” His face falls as he glances just ahead of them. That’s. That’s a waterfall. “Uh- Hongjoong-”

“What? Ready to surrender?”

“Hongjoong-”

“Because I’ll accept it-”

“Hongjoong- We have to- look out, we’re gonna crash!”

“Wha-?!” The redhead finally takes his focus off of Hwa just in time to watch the two careen into the waterfall. 

Loud crashing echoes through the normally serene clearing, and the force of the water sends the two into the creak below. Sound distorts, filling Seonghwa’s ear with the strange, muffled wobbly noise of water flowing into water. He holds onto Hongjoong for dear life. It’s not like the current is that intense, and there aren’t too many rocks at the bottom. Still, he worries. One of them could’ve gotten hurt!

When the two surface, they shake the water from their hair and wipe it from their eyes. For a brief moment, they don’t say a word. The two just check their surroundings and check each other. Nobody dead. Nothing broken. Good.

  
Then, they laugh. The two erupt into a fit of laughter as they laboriously lug themselves out of the crisp, cool water. They collapse into a giggling heap on a nearby rock, and it takes a couple of minutes to come down from the high. When they do a calm semi-silence falls between them. They let the crashing of the waterfall fill the space between them for a bit. It’s nice. So, so nice. Seonghwa wishes he could just lay like this forever. He cocks his head to the side, and his gaze meets Hongjoong. When they make eye contact, the two laugh again. 

That’s when Hwa notices a flash of red. Not from Hongjoong’s dripping hair, but from somewhere else - his arm.

“Joong, you’re bleeding,” Seonghwa sits up and frowns. He takes the leader’s arm without a second arm and wipes away at the blood to inspect.

“Huh?” The redhead’s gaze follows Hwa’s. “Oh, I didn’t even notice.”

It’s just a cut, thank god. But still, it needs some sort of medical assistance. Hongjoong can’t just bleed for hours until it scabs over!

Seonghwa scrutinizes the area in hopes of finding something helpful. By some freak miracle, a familiar succulent plant blooms just at the edge of the rock upon which they rest. Neverland is truly full of wonders, he thinks, because never in his life had he seen aloe sprouting out of a rock of all things. He yanks off one of the tentacley looking branches. Gooey gel seeps from the breaking point. Perfect, Seonghwa thinks. This has to help.

“Here,” Seonghwa says. He swipes away blood from Hongjoong’s cut and starts rubbing the aloe.

“Wh- What the heck is that?!” Hongjoong asks, his nose scrunching.

“This’ll help,” Seonghwa asserts, diligently spreading the goop across the cut. He’s not a hundred percent sure taht this is how aloe works, but it seems to be helping. Probably.

“Gross, it’s slimy! And it kinda tickles!” Joong shudders slightly.

“Says the guy who rolled around in mud two days ago,” Seonghwa snarks.

“Mud is different this is- this is…” Hongjoong trails off for some reason. He just sort of stops. That’s okay, Seonghwa thinks. Makes him a better patient, anyways. Joong quietly watches as Seonghwa liberally smears aloe gel everywhere. Something about it must be fascinating to him.

“See?” Seonghwa says, a little smile stretching across his face, “It feels better, right? It’s supposed to like, cool and relax skin and stuff. I’ve used it for sunburns before, but I think it’s just, like. Good for lotsa stuff.” When the plant seems spent enough, Seonghwa tosses the leaf-tentacle thing aside and tries to rub the gel in with his fingers more. He goes in little soothing circle motions and starts zoning out a bit himself. “I heard you can even eat it, too,” He chuckles and scrunches his nose, “I bet it tastes, like, oozey and gooey and-”

Without warning, Hongjoong yanks his arm out of Seonghwa’s grip, “That’s enough.” The redhead says tersely. His brows are knit together, and he’s got a big frown on his face. 

“Huh-?”

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong bursts up and starts walking away of all things. What the heck?

“H-Hongjoong is everything okay?” Seonghwa follows confusedly. Was it something he said? Maybe Joong has some weird phobia about slimy things? Did he hit his head? “Hongjoong is something else hurt-”

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong barks over his shoulder. He doesn’t even look at Seonghwa, and that brings tears to the black-haired boy’s eyes. What did he do?

“I’ll take it back,” Seonghwa says. “I’m sorry, I-” He reaches out to grab Hongjoong’s arm, but the redhead tears away from the older boy’s grip again.

“Don’t touch me!”

Seonghwa halts, and tears smudge his vision, “Hongjoong?”

“Just- Just stay away from me,” Joong sounds upset and angry.

“Hongjoong, what did I do?” Seonghwa cries.

Hongjoong stops and heaves a sigh. He still doesn’t look Hwa in the eye. Why can’t he even turn around and look at him? Seonghwa wonders where the heck he could’ve gone wrong. They were just laughing and playing. What  _ happened _ ?

“Nothing,” Hongjoong answers in a shaky voice. “You didn’t do anything, I just-” His voice ignites again with fiery anger, “I don’t want you touching me and stuff.”

Seonghwa can feel his heart splinter, but he stubbornly swallows down the lump in his throat, “O-Okay. I’m… I’m sorry.” He sniffles.

* * *

Seonghwa wakes with a start. His chest aches, and his eyes feel sticky and puffy. He sniffs loudly. 

Another sad dream.

This is the third- no, the fourth time this week. He keeps having them, and he can’t figure out why. They’re all the same, or they’re all sort of the same. He can never quite remember them upon waking up, but hazy memories manage to stick. After the second time, he started trying to write them down.

Seonghwa rushes to unlock his phone so he can unload what few memories of the nightmare he has into his notes app. It’s barely anything to go by, but the similarity to his previous bad dream is astounding. A red-haired boy, a faraway tropical island, flying. This one was different, though. He distinctly remembers crashing. That’s about it, though.

Hwa makes a mental note to go on one of those dream interpretation sites sometime soon. This is getting bothersome, and the repetition points to the fact that this clearly means something, but what?

Just as Seonghwa starts tapping the address to a dream symbolism site, his phone rings. It’s his supervisor. The RA frowns. What could he possibly want this early? Still, ever the dutiful worker bee, Seonghwa answers as genially as possible.

“Hey, what’s up?” He greets his sup, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“Hey Seonghwa, did you get my email about the transfer?”

Email? Transfer? Seonghwa paces over to his desk and opens his laptop, navigating to his email, “Uh- I might have and I just don’t remember it… I think I checked my email last night- when did you send it?”

“It was pretty late, sorry about that. But this is urgent. Did you hear about the disaster yesterday in the southside dorms?”

“Uh- Y’know what, I think I did, actually. One of my buddies told me when we were getting dinner. Some, like, water damage or something?”

“Oh, if only it was just ‘some water damage’. There was some catastrophic pipe failure that essentially flooded two floors in the building.”

“Wh- Two floors?!” Seonghwa gasps. “How does that even happen?”

“I have no idea. A freak accident, I guess. Anyway, check your email. Obviously, the students who’d been living on those floors can’t reside there. There’s just a ton of issues with the building structure, pipes- not to mention mold and mildew problems what with the water seeping into all the carpet.”

“Oh crap,” Hwa wrings a hand through his hair as the cogs in his brain start working. “So these students are getting spread out to all the other dorms, aren’t they.”

“Yup.”

Seonghwa finally finds the email sent late the previous night. Just as his supervisor said: there’s been catastrophic water damage, almost a hundred students have been displaced and will be redistributed into dorms throughout the campus. Two dozen of them are going to Seonghwa’s building, and one will be on his floor. Cool.

“How is this gonna work?” Seonghwa asks.

“Well, our suites were originally made to fit four to a bedroom. We reduced it to two for lifestyle adjustments, but we technically have the building allowance for more. Your newbie is transferring over some time this afternoon- he’s got morning classes, I think. He’ll be in suite… Three... Twenty-four.”

“Alright,” Seonghwa double checks his day’s calendar as he burns the number into his memory: 324, 324. It’s easy enough. Close to him, just across the hall, the second dorm to the right. Seonghwa tries to put faces to the guys there, but he can’t. If he recalls, they’re almost never there, their door isn’t open. Probably in lots of clubs or athletes, he muses. “Do you know exactly what time he’ll be moving? I’d like to be here if I can.”

“Lemme see… About one o’ clock, looks like.”

“One… I can do that. I’ve got a class that lets out at twelve-thirty then nothing until three, so I’ll be here.”

“Good, good. Thank you for taking this on so suddenly.”

“It’s my job,” Hwa chuckles. “And this poor guy’s room got flooded. He deserves a break.” Hopefully, he’s not another stoner, Seonghwa thinks.

“Awesome, thanks Seonghwa.”

“No problem. Need anything else?”

“Nope, that was it. Just make sure that guy knows the rules and has a good transition. It’s gotta be tough moving at this point in the semester.”

“For sure. Thanks for the call, see you.”

Seonghwa heaves a hefty sigh when the line goes cuts. Not exactly how he’d planned on spending his afternoon, but whatever. He does feel bad for whoever got their shit soaked. Nice and not a druggie, please - Seonghwa prays to whatever gods are listening. That’s all he asks for really. Emphasis on not a druggie.

God, Seonghwa wonders: when did the standards for humanity dip so low?

* * *

Sweat drips down Seonghwa’s back and neck as he takes the stairs two at a time. He got caught up in particle physics asking his TA a question. It’s now almost ten after one, and he’s late for the new guy’s move-in after swearing up and down he’d be there. Sure, others are gonna be present to help him with his stuff, too, but still. The RA tries to stuff down the guilt when he finally reaches the third floor. His room’s on the way, and he literally throws his backpack into the door before slamming it shut and striding over to suite 324. 

Hwa prays he doesn’t look nearly as ragged and gross as he feels. He straightens up his posture and strolls into the open door, casual as ever. A couple of campus assistants and front desk workers help unload a few last things from the rolling laundry cart the campus uses for dorm moves. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa breathes out, “Sorry I’m late.” He eyes the suite. It’s four rooms with two (well, now one has  _ three _ ) each that all join to a single common area with a bathroom. Seems like newbie’s rooming at the far end of the hallway.

“Don’t worry about it,” One of the assistants waves dismissively, “He doesn’t have a ton of stuff to move. But if you really feel guilty,” The sophomore student plops a fabric basket into Hwa’s arms, “You can move the last of it.”

Seonghwa chuckles sheepishly, “Yeah, just take it out of the cart, I got this.” He grins, waving goodbye to the benevolent assistants. Anticipation dances in his chest as he approaches the open door. For some reason, he feels anxious. One would think he was used to introductions by now. God knows he’s done dozens of them, walked newbies through ice breaker after ice breaker, sat through multiple training events and campuswide dorm employee conferences. Yet he can’t shake the strange, jittery feeling in his stomach as he approaches the threshold.

“Hey,” Seonghwa starts in his soft, introductory voice. “Sorry, I was running late from class, but I’m Park Seonghwa, your RA. I’m just across the hall, a couple doors down-” Hwa chokes on that last word. He doesn’t even remember the rest of his spiel. His mind goes blank when the new guy emerges from the shared walk-in closet, wide-eyed and cheeks ruddy red from hauling stuff.

They’re almost redder than his hair. 

His pinky, sort of strawberry-red hair.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Seonghwa blurts out. Way to go - he scolds himself - now he’s gonna think you’re hitting on him. The new guy looks about just as uncomfortable as Seonghwa, which does nothing to improve the situation.

Like a deer in the headlights, the new move-in shakes his head wordlessly with eyes wide, “N… No, I don’t think so.” He sounds clipped. Shit, he probably gets that ‘do I know you’ routine all the time being as cute as he is. He’s probably sick of it. Talk about a shitty first impression.

“A-Are you sure?” Seonghwa would usually not press this sort of thing, but seriously, this guy looks really familiar. “You’re not- You’re not in the astronomy major, are you?”

“Uh, no,” The other shakes his head. “Geomatic engineering, actually.”

“Geo-What?”

The guy laughs wryly, “It’s- It’s like very interdisciplinary. We, um, apply technology to intake and analyze spatial data about the earth. Like- Digital maps. Um, charts that show the earth’s tectonic activity.”

“Like… Meteorology?”

“No. We might help develop the tech and software that they use, though? It’s kind of a newer field.”

“Right on,” Seonghwa nods. Damn. He’s pretty but smart. “Uh- Sorry, I, um- Your basket-” He extends it awkwardly toward the other. “Where do you want it?”

“Um, oh, you can-” The redhead waves behind him, in between the cramped bunk and single bed. “You can put it somewhere there.”

“Got it,” Seonghwa obliges, setting it down in the narrow space between the two beds. Something lustrous catches the light and in doing so catches his attention. It’s not that Hwa wants to be a snoop, but it inadvertently happens. Before he can think better of it, Seonghwa reaches into the basket and withdraws a delicate glass bottle. A glowy gold substance swirls inside mysteriously. It’s so… Different. It’s dense yet somehow appears light, and though Seonghwa hardly moves it, the odd mix between liquid and powder twirls and tosses inside its glass confines. The gold specks catch the sunlight brilliantly, reflecting a full spectrum of color prettily. The bottle must have been sitting in the sun or something because there’s a warmth emanating from it.

Hwa turns the bottle around in his hand, and his brows raise upon reading the hand-written label, “Fairy dust.”

“What did you say?” The new guy pops out of the closet again.

“Wh- Oh, I- I’m so sorry,” Seonghwa gasps. Yikes. Caught red-handed. “I just- It was so pretty, I ended up picking it up, I’m- I’m really sorry. I just- What is this?”

“It’s, um,” The guy looks down hesitantly, worrying at his lower lip. Ears tinted pink, he mutters his answer shyly, “Uh- Highlight.”

“Highlight?”

“Y- Y’know to, um,” The redhead makes a gesture with his finger, swiping up his cheekbone. It takes Seonghwa an embarrassingly long minute to understand what he meant.

“Oh! Oh, right, highlight I-” Seonghwa lets out a pained laugh. “I thought for a second it was like for- for paper. Like the markers, um- wow. I’m so stupid, and you probably think I’m a klepto or something.”

“No! No, you’re fine. I get it. It’s really… Enchanting isn’t it? It just sort of draws you in.”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa nods, his gaze briefly falling on the bottle again, “Yeah it is. That’s- It’s awesome, that you do that, by the way. Like- You know we promote nothing but tolerance and respect and- and for me as an RA that is  _ not _ just talk. The guys in this suite are pretty chill I think. Honestly, I think I’ve seen them once or twice all semester. They’re not in much, but if they give you shit for expressing yourself,  _ please _ talk to me.”

  
Good. Things are back on track. The whole RA introduction thing. That was supposed to happen. Seonghwa gently sets the pretty bottle back in the new guy’s basket and approaches the redhead.

“Let me introduce myself a bit better. I’m Park Seonghwa, your RA. I’m here to make sure everyone stays in line, but I’m also here to keep you safe and help you out if you’ve got any questions. Or if you just need someone to talk to- not that, like, I don’t think you have friends or anything. I just- My door is open, okay? Like. Literally, I keep it open most evenings when I’m in.”

Hongjoong laughs at the lame remark, “You take your job way more seriously than any RA I know.”

Seonghwa feels heat prick his cheeks, and he shrugs, “I don’t like to half do things, I guess? I mean- Trust me I’m really pretty relaxed. Just, please, don’t do drugs during my rounds. Or at all, really. Don’t do drugs, stay in school.”

Hongjoong laughs more. It’s a bubbly, effervescent sound that’s contagious, and Hwa stifles a giggle of his own. When the laughter quiets, the air between them grows a bit thick and uncomfortable. Seonghwa swears he’d prepared for this. There’s something about rules that he should be saying right now. What was it again?

“Um-” Hwa coughs awkwardly, “Like, I think I’m supposed to give you a briefing of the rules, but you, like, lived in a dorm already, so… Any questions?”

“Let me see,” Hongjoong bites his lip and looks up in pretend-thought, “Um, you already covered don’t do drugs. Stay in school, I got that. No loud noises after ten o’ clock. No parties, um… Did I miss anything?”

“Non-residents aren’t allowed outside of certain building hours. Keep that in mind if you’ve got guests. No alcohol in the fridge, no vaping, either, oh- and like I said, we have a zero-tolerance policy for harassment. Then I’m sure you know all the little things like no guns, no bombs, no meth labs, no candles, no blacklisted appliances.”

“Yup.”

“Awesome, cool. I’m gonna grab another basket, I had them finish unloading in the common area.”

“Actually, um, Seonghwa, it’s okay,” Hongjoong says. “I’ve got it. I know you’ve probably got better stuff to do. It’s just a couple of little baskets.”

“No, I insist-”

  
“Really it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, being alone helps me-” The redhead gestures to the bedroom animatedly, “-feng shui better. Y’know. Gotta work my magic.”

Seonghwa lets out a laugh. It’s probably one of the nicer ways he’s been told to fuck off. He gets it. This guy’s probably just indulging his awkwardness because Hwa’s got the authority to write him up.

“Well it’d be a shame if I interfered with your ‘magic’, so I’ll leave you be,” Seonghwa waves, giving the redhead a genial smile. His heart glows when the other returns with one of his own. It’s so, so pretty that smile. The brilliance is almost blinding. “Have a good day, Hongjoong. Just let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’m across the hall, second door to the right.”

Hwa tries to shake the strange onset of nerves he’d gotten as he walks out. It’s a weird sensation like his nerves are doing a jaunty dance underneath his skin.

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong calls out from the bedroom right as Hwa reaches the suite door.

The RA quirks a brow and glances at the redhead peeking out into the hall, “Hm? Did you need something?”

Hongjoong appears to consider his words for a moment before speaking. If Seonghwa didn’t know any better, he would even say the guy looks anxious. But why would he be anxious? Perhaps Hwa made a worse first impression than he thought.

The redhead asks, “I, um, I never introduced myself to you.”

“Oh! No, that’s okay. I’m really not into all that formal stuff-”

“No, I mean… How did you know my name?”

Seonghwa’s mask of genial professionalism falters. Something hits him in the chest. How did he know his - Hongjoong’s, that is - name?

“It… Must’ve been in the email I got. We, um, us RAs got an email.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong’s eyes go wide, and he nods. He lets out a shamed chuckle, “Right. Sorry, um- Sorry for- That sounded weird. I’m gonna…”

“Yeah. Work your magic,” Seonghwa says. “And after you’re done, maybe you should get some rest.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. B-Bye Seonghwa.”

“Bye, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa gives a last wave and conciliatory smile before leaving the suite. The second the door shuts behind him, the facade falls.

He lied.

He barely skimmed that email, and he sure as hell doesn’t remember a list of names anywhere. He’s gotta know Hongjoong from somewhere. 

* * *

“You sure you don’t know him?” Seonghwa practically pleads with Yeosang at this point.

“Seonghwa, do I look like I know what the fuck ‘geomatic engineering’ is?” Yeo answers dryly.

Seonghwa deflates, “Well it could’ve been even just through a mutual friend, or at a party, or a club activity? Orientation?”

“God you are so thirsty,” San snickers. “Dude, let it go. You probably just saw him walking across campus or something.”

Hwa groans. He flops back down on Yeosang. He, Yeo, San and Wooyoung met up in one of the courtyards to laze around the lawn and cry about exams. The wild thing about midterms is that once they start, they never seem to stop. There’s always someone in some class with a midterm this week or the next. It could almost be a folky horror story: the uncanny, perpetual bombardment of crucial examinations plaguing them.

“You don’t understand San, I think I, like, know this guy. Is it weird I feel like we used to be friends or something?”

“Yes! Yes, it is!” San responds, throwing his hands up. 

“Y’know what, I’ll play devil’s advocate here,” Wooyoung says. “Let’s say Hwa does know the guy. Maybe it’s not from college, though. Like you might’ve taken an exam at the same site as him in high school. Maybe you got in a chat. Or what if your parents, like, went to the same park and you used to play with him in elementary?”

“For once,” Yeosang chuckles, “Woo’s not completely full of shit. If that’s the truth, though, you’ve got a crazy good memory, man.”

Seonghwa pouts. Hongjoong’s been on his floor for just over a week. Surely he should be over the nagging feeling by now, but he’s not. He just can’t stop thinking about it. Every time he sees suite 324, the thought bubbles up to the forefront of his head. Whenever he sees red hair, he has to do a double-take. It’s torture. He just wants to know. 

“Okay, enough of this,” San says, “Instead of guessing, how about we actually see for ourselves.” He draws his phone out of his hoodie pocket and brandishes it triumphantly. “We have the technology.”

“Oh, good call!” Wooyoung laughs, doing the same. The others quickly follow suit, and soon all four of them are tapping away, searching every SNS they can think of.

Minutes pass in relative silence. Slowly, a cloud of dejection rolls in above the initially optimistic bunch. It’s San, the brilliant brain with the idea, who’s the first to break the sad silence.

“You said his name is Kim Hongjoong, right?” San asks.

“Yes,” Seonghwa glares at his own phone as if giving it a dirty look will give him answers. “Kim Hongjoong. I’ve said it twenty times.”

“Okay- Are you sure, though? Like, how is it spelled?”

“What do you mean how is it spelled? It’s spelled how it sounds. It’s not that hard.”

“Nah, I agree with him,” Yeosang mutters. “This can’t be right, I’m coming up with jack shit for this guy. That can’t be his real name.”

“It’s what’s on all of his college shit,” Seonghwa shrugs. “What, d’you think he enrolled under a fake name or something?”

“Or,” Yeo replies, “He uses an alias online.”

“If that’s the case we’re super fucked,” Wooyoung purses his lips. “Because he’s not on any of the normal apps. Wait- Wait lemme check one more,” He murmurs before tapping the icon of an infamous guy/guy hookup app.

“I tried creeping on your high school’s old facebook group and stuff,” Detective San says. “He definitely didn’t go to your school.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Seonghwa replies flatly. He appreciates the effort, but now he feels kind of silly for even bringing his friends into his weird obsession. Not that he’s _obsessed_ obsessed. He’s not obsessed in a weird way. Just very, very curious and perhaps a bit too bothered.

“Hwa, what are his interests?” Yeosang asks.

“Hm?” Seonghwa raises his eyebrows. Not like he’s had any in-depth conversations with the redhead. He’s only spoken to him once. Hasn’t even caught the guy in passing ever since. “Uh-“ He tries to remember every little detail he remembers about Hongjoong based on their short encounter. “He likes makeup.”

“Oh!” Yeo’s mouth makes an “o” shape as the “aha” moment dawns on him. “Okay, okay, a guy who likes makeup, in this area… I’m guessing you mean more than, like, your average corrective BB cream?”

“Yeah, I mean, he didn’t look to be wearing heavy makeup, but he had this bottle of, like highlighter. It looked expensive. Plus he seems sort of… Style conscious in general, I guess. Dresses for his figure, trendy clothes.”

“Okay, well, that- that can narrow it down,” San says. He starts tapping away furiously.

Yeosang claps loudly and beams, “Got him.”

“What? Are you serious?” Wooyoung throws his hands up in defeat - apparently, their lurkathon had been a competition. Who knew.

Yeo grins ear to ear, “At least, I have a picture of him.” The brunette throws his phone down in the center like he’s showing off the winning hand of a poker game. On screen is a picture of a group of students. There are mostly girls, save for a few guys who look similar to Hongjoong - handsome and impeccably dressed. Someone front and center in the picture holds a graffiti style banner:

“Fashion Production Club”

“Jackpot!” Wooyoung - now over his devastation - joins Yeosang in creeping on the FPC’s social networks. “This is the club that, like, puts on a fashion show every year, right?”

“I think so, yeah,” Seonghwa nods. 

Armed with new information, the four of them get to work “investigating”. This time it’s San, however, who lands on pertinent information first.

San reads off, “FPC Member Spotlight - this was posted, like, a month ago by the way - Kim Hongjoong- that’s your man!”

“He’s- He’s not my man!” Seonghwa covers his face. He’s starting to really regret even saying anything.

“Anyways,” San ignores the eldest and keeps going, “Blah, blah, blah… New transfer, joined this year… Geometrics Engineering major, dreams of hunting for treasure for reals one day. Loves to reform and upcycle new clothes, breathing new life into old garments… He’s a scorpio- oh  _ my _ .”

“Wow, so he’s new here,” Seonghwa remarks. That’s… Different. He’s not sure what he expected to hear, but something about the other being a recent transfer is off. 

“See, okay, so most of these spotlights will link the socials of whoever they’re highlighting. Like if you look at the one the week before she dropped everything - insta, snap… Like almost every other one provides some sort of link except for him.”

“So he just doesn’t use social media- wait, I lied!” San gasps dramatically. “He has one SNS linked. You’ll never guess what it is?”

“Myspace?” Yeosang jokes.

San snorts, “He’s got a pinterest.”

“Oh… I dunno about that, Hwa,” Wooyoung purses his lips.

“Hey, everyone’s got flaws!” Yeosang argues. “And if hottie’s only flaw is that he likes mood board and bad life hacks, I mean, Seonghwa could do a lot worse.”

“Thank you for standing up for me,” Hwa rolls his eyes. He scoots over to San, checking the younger’s phone screen. “So, the pinterest…”

“Oh, we have to check,” San grins ear to ear. “A man’s boards say a lot about him. Is he a life hacks guy? Or, like, more of a food porn person? Let’s find out!” San singsongs, tapping the top board.

Seonghwa would be on the edge of his seat if he had one. He holds his breath as solid rectangles populate the screen. San, ham that he is, decides the narrate the entire thing - as if Hwa isn’t watching the stupid pinterest page with bated breath.

“What’s this board called?” San asks rhetorically. “Okay, so this one is… Faith, trust and fairy dust- aw! That’s so cute!”

“Hmm,” Yeosang squints a bit, not hiding his distaste.

“Shut up, Yeo, nobody asked,” San snaps. “Let’s see and the pics… Here we go!”

Seonghwa lets out a breath as he drinks in the pictures of the board like it’ll give him profound insight. It’s an interesting board. A gorgeous collection of images with varying subject matters. There are a lot of textural shots of just glitter. It sort of reminds Hwa of Hongjoong’s fairy dust highlight. There are rainbows and clear, cloudy skies interspersed with shots of the sea. A lot of images seem to be of tropical islands - beaches, rainforests, towering palms, and dense underbrush. Then there are shots of the night sky, uninterrupted starscapes. They’re arranged deliberately, complimenting those adjacent thoughtfully. 

San gives his verdict, “Not a terrible aesthetic. Kind of pinterests like a teenage girl, but whatever.”

“He’s not straight,” Wooyoung adds astutely. "I got that from his board."

“Thank you,” Seonghwa says sarcastically. “You are all so, so helpful.” He sighs. This yielded little. Knowing he’s in the FPC at least gleans a bit about him. He’s creative. It’s sort of surprising. One wouldn't think someone so artsy wants to go into geometrics, but Hwa supposes people have many facets.

“You’re welcome,” San grins. “I’ll keep you posted if I dig anything else up.”

“Uh, that’s fine,” Seonghwa says. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh but I do. You’ve opened the floodgates and now I’m going full Sherlock on this dude whether you like it or not. You’d be amazed what you can find for free on the internet with only a first and last name.”

Seonghwa’s face scrunches with displeasure, “Remind me to never cross you.”

San just responds with a kissy face which is fairly apt. After insistent urging, the clique finally moves on from the topic of Seonghwa’s crush that’s not really a crush. Hwa can’t stop thinking about Hongjoong, but it’s more to do with the fact that he can’t shake the feeling of familiarity. Okay so, he’s cute and seems like an alright guy. But that is completely beside the point.

That doesn’t explain the way Seonghwa’s heart wrenches when he looks into the other’s eyes. For lack of a better way to put it, it feels like a pang of regret. Like seeing an ex that you wished you never left or a friend you’d lost touch with.

* * *

“Maddox, you’re awfully friendly today,” Seonghwa pouts at the glimmering fairy perched on his shoulder. He’s never trusted that fairy. Sure, he seems all cute and innocent at a glance, but he’s got an evil side. Why, when he and Hongjoong first met, Maddox couldn’t stand Seonghwa. Hwa could not for the life of him figure out why. He hadn’t even said a word to the fairy except for complimenting his pretty wings. Even so, Maddox glowed red with fury when Seonghwa first met Hongjoong.

Whatever grudge the fae had developed, he held onto for, well, until now evidently. Maybe he’s just basking in Seonghwa’s misery. Yes, that seems a likely scenario. Seonghwa sighs, hoping the big exhale will blow the taunting pixie away. It doesn’t. The soft ringing indicates the fairy’s speech. Even after years of visiting Neverland, Seonghwa still can’t understand Maddox the way Hongjoong does. Nobody can.

The black-haired boy kicks idly at the dirt atop the gorge. He got delegated to watch out duty - as if the dastardly pirates would be so foolish as to venture into mermaid territory! As dumb as they are, they don’t have a death wish. Hongjoong, on the other hand, does. At least, that’s what Seonghwa told him when the leader proposed they enter mermaid’s gorge to steal back one of the lost boys’ favorite baubles. On one hand, it speaks to just how oversized Joong’s heart is. For his small body, he really fits a lot of kindness in there. On the other, it speaks to just how naive he is. Seonghwa used to enjoy going on risky adventures, but lately, their missions have been reckless for him. He finds himself worrying more about their leader than anyone else. It feels bad.

It feels so… Grown up.

Isn’t that a mom’s job? To worry about everything and act like the kids can’t competently do anything? That they’re bound to get hurt or mess up?

But now he’s feeling this way, and it’s awful. Seonghwa wishes he could turn back time. He doesn’t live in Neverland, if he did, he wouldn’t have to worry about growing up. Except for that means he would never see his mom again - or his dad, brother, or friends from school either.

Little tinkering noises ring by Seonghwa’s ear, drawing his attention. It’s Maddox. Initially, Hwa thought the fairy was laughing at him for being a crybaby. Then he takes a closer look at Maddox’s little round face. The fairy gestures wildly, gasping and pointing down toward the gorge.

Is something the matter?

Seonghwa’s gaze follows Maddox’s direction, and his eyes go wide. The lost boys climb out one by one, clearly soaked and exhausted. But Hongjoong…

“Where’s Hongjoong?!” Hwa calls down worriedly.

One of the boys huffs and puffs, hacking water, “He’s- I thought he was behind us. L-Leader? Leader?!” The other five follow suit. Everyone looks around, panicked, calling out their leader’s name. But there’s no answer.

“H-Hongjoong?” Seonghwa calls down below. His voice echoes all the way down the gorge. “Hongjoong?!” He feels heat prickle his eyeballs, but he refuses to cry. He is not gonna cry. “Guys I’m gonna look further down! I’ve got a better view up here!”

Making good on his word, Hwa runs down the edge of the gorge, checking every ripple and bubble in hopes of finding the redhead. The five minutes it takes him to find Joong feel like five hours. Thankfully, that red hair is totally unmistakeable.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa shouts. The other bobs limply in the gorge’s weak current. “Oh no- Hongjoong, I’m- I’m coming!” Without another thought, Hwa leaps off the edge of the gorge. He can hear Maddox’s manic ringing as he no doubt yells some kind of curses or calls him an idiot. Seonghwa doesn’t care. That’s Hongjoong there, beat up and floating around in mermaid turf.

Hwa hits the water with a loud splash, and cold seeps into his skin. He doesn’t even care, using those swimming lessons mom got him to the best of his ability. Seonghwa kicks and paddles like his life depends on it. His doesn’t, but Joong’s does, and that’s just about as urgent in his eyes. 

He wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulder when he reaches him and paddles to shore frantically. Seonghwa drags his friend up the rocks until he’s confident a mermaid can’t leap out of the water and yank them down. 

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asks the other, shivering. Dang. As hot as it is outside, it sure is cold in that water. Hwa slaps the other’s face a bit, but no dice. “Hongjoong? Hongjoong please-“ He slaps the other harder. Seonghwa vaguely remembers seeing some water rescue videos during his swimming class. One time he got invited to a pool party when he was eight, and a girl there hit her head on the side of the pool. He tries to remember what the adults did to rescue her.

Hwa turns Hongjoong on his side and slaps his back. Maybe that’ll knock the water out? He sort of remembers seeing people, like, compress a person’s tummy. Then there’s mouth to mouth. Gross! There’s no way he’d ever do that to Joong. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Come on, come on idiot,” Seonghwa murmurs, roughly smacking the other’s back. It’s not working, though. “Come on! Hongjoong! W-Wake up, Joong! Hongjoong wake up! P-Please!”

Hongjoong suddenly comes to life, hacking and coughing his guts up. He throws up water until there’s nothing left. He shivers, and Seonghwa rubs his arms to try and warm him up. When that doesn’t seem to work, he just hugs the other. 

He frantically starts stuttering, “Wh- Wha- Happen? What happened?! The- The lost boys-“

“They’re fine,” Seonghwa says. “Just down the bank. We’ll get moving, too, in a minute.”

“O… Okay,” Usually Joong would gripe about how he’s “fine” and stuff. The concession is rare. Instead, Hongjoong’s body turns into jelly in Seonghwa’s arms. The older one has to hoist him up so they can sit up, the smaller one nestled between his legs, head resting against his shoulders.

“What happened back there?” Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong weakly lifts his fist. He unclenches it to reveal a tiny little stuffed puppy dog key chain. It belongs to one of the lost boys, the one with dimples.

“Had to get this,” Joong says. “They didn’t wanna let us go. But we beat ‘em. Couldn’t let them mess with one of my lost boys.”

“Seems like they messed with you,” Seonghwa adds dryly. 

Hongjoong giggles at that and pinches Hwa’s nose, “Shut up. We won, and that’s what counts.”

“Not if you get brain damage from oxygen deprivation!” 

“That’s… A lot of big words. Too many fancy words for my brain right now.”

“Heh, sorry,” Seonghwa apologizes. “I’m just saying we should probably stay away from those mermaids. They’re super mean and scary. At least the pirates are dumb- the mermaids are way smart. They actually pose a threat.” He sighs, looking down at the sorry sight of his leader. He looks paler than usual, and the water’s made his usually bright hair look darker, faded almost. Hongjoong has been weird lately, but he’s still Hwa’s most precious friend. Hwa frowns down at the redhead and hugs him closer. He doesn’t know what else to do.

“Hongjoong, I don’t wanna lose you,” Seonghwa breathes out. “Please be careful.”

“I…” There’s a hint of protest in his voice, but it drops. “I’m trying.” He brings a hand up to squeeze Hwa’s. “I just- It’s like our job to protect Neverland and the good people in it, you know?”

“Yeah, but, if you get drowned by a mermaid, how’re you gonna do that? From the afterlife?”

“Yes!” Hongjoong jumps up suddenly, turning around so he’s facing Seonghwa. “And when I’m dead, I’m gonna haunt you first!” He lunges forward and tackles Seonghwa onto the wet, rocky bank. 

“Ahh! Hongjoong!” Seonghwa half-heartedly wrestles the other as he jabs fingers into his most vulnerable ticklish spots.

“Rawr!” Joong growls playfully, “I’m gonna eat your brains, Seonghwa!”

“No-! I need those, for school!”

“Live in Neverland forever, and you’ll never need your brains again! Rawr!” He starts jabbing his fingers around blindly and biting Seonghwa everywhere. 

“Ow! Ow- Hongjoong-” Seonghwa giggles. “Hongjoong!” He bats at the other noncommittally. It’s hard to focus on anything when he’s being tickled so much. All he can do is laugh and try not to pee himself.

“You’re _my_ human! All mine!” 

“Sto- Hongjoong, you’re tickling me I- Hongjoong it hur-hurts!” Seonghwa’s guts split from laughing. It’s not fair! Hongjoong knows all the right spots, and he’s totally abusing his powers. “I thought you were supposed to be the good guy!”

“Not anymore, I’m the overlord of the dead. My tribe is no longer the lost boys but the dead boys, and you shall join their ranks forever!” Hongjoong speaks between bites and prods and jabs. “You’ll get buried here in Neverland alongside the other lost boys- mwahaha!”

“Joong! You’re so scary!” 

“Good!” Hongjoong bites Seonghwa’s ears and shoulder, making the now older boy yelp. “You shall live the out the rest of eternity as my undead soldier!”

Seonghwa wiggles and weakly shoves at the other, “No-! I don’t wanna eat brains! I like chips too much!”

“Too bad!” Hongjoong laughs, squeezing and squishing his face. “You’re mine! Mine!” It seems like the exhaustion is starting to set in, because Hongjoong finally starts to slow down. Thank god, Hwa thinks. He needs a break. In spite of nearly getting drowned, Hongjoong perseveres.

The redhead, more weakly now, still laughs, “You’re mine, Seonghwa! You’re- you’re mine…” His bites diminish until he’s doing nothing more than a press of the lips against skin, and his ticklish pokes stagnate. “You’re all… You’re all mine, Seonghwa…” He trails off dazedly.

When the dizziness from laughter clears from Hwa’s head, his laughter fades. He just lays on the rocks and lets it happen. He’s happy to. Giddy even. Now he feels dizzy but in a different sort of way, a way he’s only heard stories about or seen on television. Hongjoong just keeps kissing him. He presses his lips against Hwa’s shoulders and cheeks and neck and stuff.

Is this still part of make-believe?

Are they still playing?

It doesn’t feel like it anymore.

Seonghwa’s heard about it. He’s not even a teenager yet, but others in his class do this kinda stuff. It always felt too soon, too fast when he heard about it. But now…? He’s not so sure about that. He really isn’t sure about anything. He feels kinda woozy - but not in a bad way.

This isn’t allowed.

It’s against the rules. 

So why is Hongjoong kissing him all over and just saying “you’re mine” like in some sappy black and white movie?

And why is Seonghwa enjoying it?

The weird spell dissipates abruptly. Seonghwa knows he ought to feel relieved, but it just tints his insides with a sick, sour feeling. 

Hongjoong halts. Slowly, the redhead sits up. His mouth is agape and eyes are wide. Behind those dark orbs, it’s clear to see: utter devastation. It’s like Hongjoong just murdered him like he was pretending to, and he just now realized what he’d done. His expression is one of disgust, and not once has Seonghwa ever had to see that directed at him.

He wants to cry.

“H-Hongjoong?” Seonghwa squeaks out weakly.

The redhead doesn’t answer. He trudges off in the opposite direction. Seonghwa scrambles onto his feet after the leader.

“Hongjoong?” He calls out again. Following the other is hard, the rocks are slippery and shifty. “Hongjoong wait-!”

“Just- Just stay away from me, Seonghwa!”

“But, Hongjoong it’s-”

“Stay away!” Hongjoong’s voice booms across the gorge. It’s so imposing that Seonghwa stops.

Still, he pleads with the leader,“Hongjoong, it’s- it’s-”

“Just- Just tell the others I’m alright.”

“But Hongjoong-!”

“I- I need to go. Need to fly,” Hongjoong says. “Maddox!” He barks up the gorge. A little twinkle flies down to join the leader. Hwa just barely makes out the little tinkling sound. He cannot understand what Maddox’s sounds mean precisely, but he’s come to know the fairy’s tone. Maddox doesn’t seem the least bit happy. Hongjoong quarrels until the fairy relents, sprinkling the leader with fairy dust.

“Wait, Joong, you’re just gonna- gonna go-?!” Seonghwa hollers as the other’s body floats up.

“I- I need to- I have something to- to do-”

“Hongjoong!”

“Just- Just- Read the boys their bedtime story and go. You already know the way home.”

Tears well up in Seonghwa’s eyes. It’s always like this with him. He just locks up. Runs away. Every time. Hwa should honestly have expected this to happen. What else would happen, really? Seonghwa isn’t sure what’s worse: being completely unsurprised by the redhead’s infuriating behavior, or allowing himself to be heartbroken anyway.

He watches futilely as the redhead floats away until he’s nothing but a speck of sparkles and red. 

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa sniffles. He doesn’t even feel like crying much anymore. Not really. He’s done it more times than he can count as of late, and he’s tired of it. He just lets the words drop numbly from his lips.

“Hongjoong… It’s okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // CHAPTER WARNING(s): harassment, catcalling

Fire crackles peacefully in the forest clearing. Crickets and cicadas sing a droning song, accompanied by the warbling of bullfrogs and soft chirping of bats. From their little corner of Neverland, the lost boys have a beautiful view of the stars. Most stunning of all is the sky’s centerpiece, the moon. She shines brighter than a diamond and looks bigger than an extra large pizza.

One of the lost boy leans heavily on Seonghwa’s shoulders. His eyelids droop as he wraps his blanket around his shoulders tightly. It’s almost bed time. The lost boys had a long day of adventuring. A message in a bottle washed up on shore in the morning, and inside they found a treasure map. Except, it was no ordinary map. Instead of words, the places were written as a jumble of numbers. The lost boys scratched their heads for a long time. 

Just as they were about to give up, Seonghwa had a eureka moment! He remembered a field trip his class took to the children’s museum. They had an interactive science exhibit on spies, and part of the activities involved codes. Hwa took on the ordeal of attempting to teach the lost boys ciphers from his memory. After entirely too much hard brain work, they managed to decipher the map’s directions. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Somehow the buffoonish pirates lucked their way into the treasure cove, too, and a huge battle broke out.

Like always, the lost boys came out triumphant. They got a buttload of gold dubloons from the chest (along with a buttload of bruises from the fight). After exchanging a few of the doubloons with the forest tribe, the lost boys took home a fine feast. 

With bellies full and bodies exhausted, there was one thing left to end the day. A bedtime story. Not long after Seonghwa joined the ranks of the lost boys did he get enlisted with this sacred task. Apparently, none of the other boys were really good at reading. Hongjoong said he didn’t like grown-ups, but their “one useful function” was the “occasional comfort of a tuck-in and bedtime story”. His words. Eager to please his new leader (and honestly happy to take care of others), Hwa happily took on the task.

That was just about two years ago. He’s been reading bedtime stories ever since.

“...The beast’s fur glowed brightly - brighter than the sun - and magic lifted his body into the air. Glowing light swirled around his body as it shrunk. His giant paws turned into hands, and his unruly mane tamed into beautiful, flowing hair. When the enchantress’s spell had finally reversed, it left not a fearsome beast, but a beautiful prince. The dame, taken aback, gasps and rushes to him-”

“Ew!” One of the lost boys across the fire - the strong one - yelps.

“Are they gonna kiss?” The lanky one asks, sounding less grossed out and more curious.

“Ugh- Why do these stories always gotta have kissing,” Another one adds.

  
Seonghwa rolls his eyes. It’s not like he wants to read about grown-ups swatting spit, either, but he’s sort of resigned himself to the fact that most of these stories end with a kiss. That’s just how it goes. The princess or damsel in distress gets rescued. She gets a kiss and maybe gets married.

“Just skip it,” Hongjoong says with a sort of finality. The general grumbling among the boys dies down, and Seonghwa sighs.

He continues, “The dame rushes to his side, and the two _ hug _-”

“Oh! Do they live happily ever after?” One of the boys asks.

“What about the candlestick man? Is he still a candle?”

“Guys!” Hongjoong shouts. “Let him finish.” When the din dies out yet again, Hwa finishes the story.

“The enchantress’s curse breaks, and all of the servants turn back to their human selves. Clouds part, and sunlight shines down on the castle for the first time in ages. Overjoyed, the king holds a celebration for all to attend. The people dance and sing merrily. The beautiful dame - now his wife and princess - brings her father to the live in the castle as the head innovator. Everyone lives happily ever after. The end.”

“Aw.” “Yay!” “I liked that one.”

Seonghwa closes the book with a smile. That was a nice story. A few of the boys yawn.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Seonghwa says with a smile. 

The one resting on Hwa’s shoulder stirs,“Wha… No, no I can- I can stay up.”

“We’ve got another day ahead of us,” Hongjoong says. “C’mon lost boys. Let’s pack it up. Who knows what those pirates have in store for us tomorrow. They’re probably not too happy about us taking those doubloons today.” A few more groans of protest sound out, but ever faithful to their leader, the lost boys oblige. 

  
Seonghwa follows into the den the lost boys call home. A few lanterns light the way into the cozy hideout. There’s a little cove carved out for every boy. Each one has a bed of their own, and they’ve all got their own decorations. One of the coves - the one right by Hongjoong’s - remains conspicuously empty.

Seonghwa goes one by one to tuck them all in until only Hongjoong is left. He knows better than to tuck Joong in. The leader’s always the last one to bed. Always is. Joong and Seonghwa usually chat a bit by the fire before Hongjoong sees Hwa off. At least. They used to. Lately things have been… Weird. It’s like Hongjoong is mad at him. But for what?

Still, Seonghwa doesn’t like to pass up a chance to be alone with Hongjoong. It’s not like they hate each other anything. No matter what, they’ll always be there for each other. They’re just going over a rough patch is all.

When Hwa emerges from the lost boys’ den, Hongjoong is in the same spot he’d been by the fire. He leans back on his palms lackadaisically, watching the fire roar. Embers dance up from the flames and join the stars in the sky. The amber light outlines Hongjoong like a halo. 

  
Seonghwa plops down on the ground next to the leader cross-legged. He flashes Joong a grin. The redhead scoots away a bit, and Hwa’s grin falters. He tries to ignore it. Hongjoong probably just wants to spread out his legs is all. 

“Pretty crazy day, huh?” Seonghwa asks affably.

“Yeah. Hey, you okay? I saw you trip and fall by the cave,” Hongjoong leans over a bit and frowns, studying Seonghwa’s knee.

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s just a scratch,” Hwa starts to protest help. But then something stops him. “But, um, yeah it- it really hurts.” He pulls a face.

“Oh- Oh gosh, stay still. Here, here, um lemme, uh- How’s this?” Hongjoong gently places a hand on Seonghwa’s knee and strokes with his thumb. It kinda does feel nice, the gentle rubbing. It sorta reminds Hwa of how his mum rubs his tummy when he’s got a belly ache. Something about the motion is just comforting and soothing and nice. It’s like a universal way to show you care about someone. 

“It’s getting a little better,” Seonghwa replies.

“You know, you could stay here tonight. Get some rest,” Joong suggests. 

He always does this.

That spot in the den is for Seonghwa. He knows it. Whenever Hwa goes into the hideout, the barren bed sort of stares at him. There’s not a day that goes by where Hongjoong doesn’t ask him to stay. Nowadays, Hwa’s pretty sure Hongjoong does it more out of habit than actually expecting anything. Seonghwa always says no, and at this point he’s flattered. Sometimes he really, really thinks about it. But something about the prospect scares him. Part of him is afraid if he sleeps over one night, he’ll never leave.

“You know I can’t,” Seonghwa says. “My-”

“Yeah your parents, I know,” Hongjoong huffs, taking his hand back and wrapping his arms around his knees. “Y-Y’know I bet they wouldn’t even notice. I mean- It’s already dark, right? You could just go first thing in the morning, before the sun comes up.”

“Hongjoong, you know I can’t do that.”

“Come on, would your parents really notice? Just one night?”

“Joong, one time I woke up in the middle of the night and saw my mother standing over me with her hand on my chest.”

“Wh-Whoa,” A look of terror strikes Hongjoong’s face. “Have you ever considered that your mom is a serial murderer? Or an alien?”

“I screamed so much I cried,” Seonghwa admits with a sheepish laugh. “You know what she told me?”

“What?”

“She just wanted to ‘make sure I was still breathing and alive’.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. So, sleeping over is not an option. Unless- Well, usually she likes to know the peoples’ parents before I’m allowed to go over their houses. Not to mention strict day-time only hangouts before advancing into night territory…”

Hongjoong replies, clipped, “Right, well, you should probably get going, then.”

“Wha- No, I- I can stay a little bit. I can tuck you in, if you want.”

“No you should go back to your mom. So she can make sure you’re breathing and stuff.”

“Wha- Hongjoong. Are- are you mad?” Seonghwa moves closer to the redhead, but this time the leader shies away. With the urgency he shuffles away, one would think Seonghwa is the fire.

“I’m not mad,” Hongjoong fires back. He definitely _ sounds _ mad. “I just- Why can’t you stay just once?”

“Hongjoong, you know that I-”

“You always choose them over us.”

“Wh- Hongjoong-”

“What’s so good about grown-ups, anyway, huh? All they do is- is make up rules and tell you what to do when it’s convenient for them. They- they just lie and tell you what to do and- and use you as a prop- and the second you don’t do what they tell you to or- or you’re too much of a hand full you face the consequences. Seonghwa I would never do that, ever.”

“Hongjoong, I- I can’t-”

“Why not, Hwa? Why not?” There it is again. That desperation. Seonghwa can see it in the flickering firelight, the way sadness distorts Hongjoong’s cute features. His mouth makes a pout, and wetness in his eyes catches the light.

“I don’t want to make my parents upset or- or worry them.”

“Who cares! What happens when they do something that makes you upset? Do they apologize? Huh?”

“W-Well, that’s different. They’re my parents-”

“They’re grown-ups. They don’t care about you.”

“Wh-Why are you saying all of this, Hongjoong? My parents are- are weird, yeah, but they’re not like that-”

“Maybe not yet. But who knows. You do something they don’t like tomorrow, and they’ll just- just toss you aside. Or- or lock you up in a room or something. Hwa I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Hwa cries,“What?! No. No, Hongjoong not all grown-ups are like that. My parents love me!”

“So do I!” Hongjoong shouts it so loud that it echoes across the trees forever. It’s almost like the trunks are mimicking the redhead, whispering the words back so they linger. 

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa’s words come out as a hoarse whisper. He feels like the wind had gotten knocked out of him.

“S-So do we,” The redhead says weakly.

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say to that. Tears just drop down his cheeks one after the other. He thought he’d grown out of crying years ago but apparently not.

“Good night, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa stands up and sniffles.

“Seonghwa wait-” The redhead jumps onto his feet to follow the black-haired boy.

“I know the way by heart already,” Seonghwa starts floating up into the night sky.

“W-Wait Seonghwa, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong flies after him. The leader is much more deft in the sky, and it takes just seconds for him to overtake the other. “Seonghwa, I mean it. I mean- I didn’t mean anything I said, okay. Your parents probably do love you.”

Hwa flies past Hongjoong wordlessly.

“S-Seonghwa!” Hongjoong persistantly follows, flying backwards just so Hwa can’t get away. “Seonghwa, I said-”

“I heard what you said!” Seonghwa shouts. He lets out a huff of air, “My parents probably love me. Right. And- and what about the other thing?”

“Huh? What other thing?”

“You know, the- the other thing.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“You- you said that you…” Seonghwa sighs dejectedly. “Never mind, Hongjoong. I’m going to bed.”

“Seonghwa- Wait- I am sorry. Really.”

“I know,” Hwa continues his ascent into the night sky. The flickering orange of the firelight fades, drowned out by th esilver glowing of the moon. Hongjoong cuts in front of him _ again _.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong cradles his arms. He looks so small and vulnerible. Seonghwa wants to hug him - except, he won’t. He’s mad at Hongjoong because Hongjoong is being a jerk. Of course, that doesn’t mean Seonghwa is just gonna refuse to hear him out.

Hongjoong floats just a bit forward, and his voice dips low, “I- I really am sorry. Please don’t go. I- I mean go, but-” He sniffs loudly. It’s clear he’s trying to act tough, but Seonghwa can see the way Joong’s eyes glimmer in the moonlight. “Please come back. I want you to come back. We- We all do. You’re one of us, you belong here. Even if… If only when you wanna come.”

Seonghwa sighs and extends a pinky. He nods, and puts on a brave face for the sake of both of them. It’s sort of pathetic how they argue and both end up teary messes.

“Course I will,” Seonghwa replies, wiggling his pinky and grinning. “We made a promise, remember? Together forever.”

“R-right,” Hongjoong smiles timidly. “Together forever.”

The two lock pinkies under the moonlight.

* * *

Seonghwa frowns at the sight of his breath in the late autumn air. The hot weather always feels oppressive until it’s gone. Now Seonghwa can’t stick his foot too far out of his blanket without getting the shivers. He clings to his cocoa, willing his hands to seep every bit of warmth from he can get from the hot beverage. 

By the grace of all that is good, his afternoon class got cancelled. It’s been a rough semester (well, they’ve all been rough - but that’s beside the point). Seonghwa sees nothing more fitting than to reward himself for his work with an afternoon nap. Nothing quite beats cozying up under a blanket while watching the gray sky. The RA hums happily as he enters his building. Warmth stings his red hands and the tip of his nose.

By the time he’s up the stairs, Seonghwa’s sweating. That’s the kicker about this sort of transitional weather. There’s always a distinct lack of equilibrium. You go from freezing outside to roasting in, and there’s no in between. Seonghwa wracks his brain for solutions to this problem. Should he wear less layers? More. His lamentations are, however, interrupted by a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

Hongjoong.

The redhead walks not far in front of him. He’s going pretty slow for some reason. Over the weeks of his residence, Seonghwa has only caught sight of Joong in passing. Once or twice, he’s managed an awkward wave or pained smile. They haven’t talked since. Occasionally, Seonghwa notices the light glimmering extraordinarily off of the redhead’s cheekbones. Fairy dust, he thinks. The moniker is apt, and whatever’s in that formula is worth whatever price he paid. Because when Hongjoong wears it and the light catches him just so, he truly looks magical.

Seonghwa tries not to be a creep, but he slows his pace. Something is off today. Hongjoong typically moves quickly. He just does, sort of scuttling around like a little woodland creature. (Or maybe he just moves like that to avoid Seonghwa because Hwa can’t manage to act normal around him.) Hongjoong lumbers in front of him slowly, clumsily almost. His gait is that of someone sore or hurt. Is he sore or hurt? He’s in sweats and an unzipped hoodie, maybe he just got back from the gym.

“H-Hongjoong,” Seonghwa tries to sound cool and casual and not like he’s got a freakish crush-slash-fascination for the other.

The redhead glances over his shoulders, and upon seeing Hwa his eyes widen. He starts walking faster.

Seonghwa can’t believe his eyes - what the heck did he do?! They’re both walking in the same direction, anyway, which just makes matters more awkward.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa tries again.

The redhead stops, huddling his hoodie closer, “Hi Seonghwa.” He gives a little grin. It’s not genuine, just polite.

Hwa feels a pang of guilt. Maybe he really is a bother. Maybe, for some reason, Hongjoong feels really uncomfortable around the RA. Might have something to do with the weirdo klepto thing he pulled. Or perhaps the name thing. What if he’s caught onto Seonghwa’s passing glances? Does he know that Hwa’s been looking him up?

“Hey,” Hwa skips up to Hongjoong’s side. “How’s it going?” He flashes Hongjoong a wide grin, an authentic one. “You look comfy, come from the gym?”

“U-Um, yeah,” Hongjoong answers sheepishly. “Leg day.”

“Yikes,” Seonghwa winces. He’s still sore from his leg workout last week. “And then you have to walk to classes.” 

“Yeah, walking everywhere was definitely a… Big adjustment I had to make,” Hongjoong sighs.

“Oh yeah, you, um, transferred here, right?” Hwa asks.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow. Oh shit. He probably wouldn’t have said that. Now Joong’s gonna totally know he’s been very not-weirdly strategically sourcing information on him.

“It was in your transfer papers for the dorm,” Seonghwa adds, because what better way to cover up e-stalking than with a lie? “Did you transfer from somewhere much smaller?”

“Yeah, I, um moved around a lot so I took classes online,” Hongjoong replies. “The whole idea of… Being a big kid and going to college _ really _ spooked me out. So I, like, put it off for awhile- and, wow that, uh, that really sounds-”

“Perfectly fine and normal,” Seonghwa cuts the other off. No self deprecation on his watch! “College is a lot to take on. Better than rushing into it and setting yourself up for failure.”

“Huh,” Hongjoong digests the words for a second. “You always know the right thing to say, Seonghwa,” He replies with a warm smile. The sight melts Seonghwa’s heart. The flurry of heat flushes his cheeks, and he hopes Joong chocks it up to the temperature difference indoors versus out.

“D-Do I?” Hwa squeaks out. Wow. Way to look cool, he thinks to himself. “Just speaking my mind. Glad the random crap that comes out of my mouth isn’t totally horrific.”

“No, only slightly,” Hongjoong snarks. Seonghwa laughs at the jab. So he’s got a fiery attitude to accompany that red hair. Hwa opens his mouth to return with a quip, but his eyes get drawn downward. A splotch of color pokes out from Hongjoong’s tank top. At first Seonghwa feels a punch of awkward, twisty pain in his guts. Then, he realizes it’s not a hickey. Or, at least if it is, it’s a damn impressive one. The bruise starts at the base of Hongjoong’s neck and stretches all the way down his shoulder, disappearing into the unzipped hoodie sagging off of his shoulders.

“What happened?” Seonghwa asks concernedly.

“Hm- O-Oh, uh- This,” Hongjoong rushes to pull his hoodie up. His pupils dart away, and the mirth he’d had seconds before diminishes. “It’s nothing.”

Seonghwa resists the urge to shake the guy. The bruising looked serious. Hwa doesn’t know Hongjoong well. Maybe he’s just in some martial arts club. But maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s being harassed or even worse, got assaulted. What if he had an accident? Is he in an abusive relationship? Has he sought medical attention?

“Hongjoong, I really think you should get that looked at,” Seonghwa tries not to sound as concerned as he feels.

The redhead’s eyes cast to the floor, and he shakes his head, “It’s fine, really. Just a bad bump is all.”

“Wh- Just a bad bump? Hongjoong, your shoulder is like a rainbow of black and blue.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m icing it,” Hongjoong picks up his pace, but oh no, Hwa’s not gonna let him off that easy.

The blond strides after the redhead with haste, “Wait- Just- Please seek medical attention.”

“I’m taking tylenol, and it helps.”

“Wh- Tylenol?!” Seonghwa actually runs so he can cut right in front of Hongjoong. He hates to seem threatening, but the other’s health takes precedence over his immediate comfort. Seonghwa stands up straight, using his height to overshadow the other. He considers that there’s at least a thirty percent chance he’ll get a knee in the groin for this. Should that be the case, he concedes that he deserves it. After Hongjoong talked about how scary college is, Seonghwa is here, acting like the creepiest creep on campus.

Though the hall is empty, Seonghwa lowers his voice just in case. He looks Hongjoong in the eye and asks, “Hongjoong, did someone do this to you? Are you being targeted?”

Hongjoong looks like a deer in the headlights (rightfully so). His pupils dance around, and he worries at his lower lip.

“Hongjoong, please,” Seonghwa tries again more softly. “If someone on campus is threatening you, tell me. I want to help you. I’m not just saying that because you live on my floor.”

“Then why?” Hongjoong asks, suddenly bold. He meets Seonghwa’s gaze with a surprising intensity.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much about me? A-About what happens to me? I mean- I don’t see you chasing any other students down the halls asking about their injuries.”

“I…”

Good question.

Why does he care so much? Seonghwa wonders.

“You remind me of someone I used to know,” The words come out of Seonghwa’s mouth. He can’t really claim them. It doesn’t feel like he’d said them. They just sort of climbed out of their own volition. In spite of the peculiar impulse, Seonghwa doesn’t feel particularly inclined to take the words back, either. So they just float there mysteriously, steeped in a meaning that Seonghwa can’t quite grasp.

“Do you remember his name?” Hongjoong asks. What a strange question. A strange question prompted by a strange admission. When did everything get so weird?

“U-Uh no, no I don’t,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “I just… Look, even if you didn’t remind me of someone, I’d still care because- I dunno. I just care about people.” Hwa shrugs, backing up to give the other some space. The air between them was starting to feel a bit tight and suffocating. “Which is why, I would really like to know what happened? If- If you’re cool with telling me. No pressure or anything. Though you should probably talk to somebody, even if it’s not me.”

Hongjoong’s pupils flit between the floor and Hwa’s own. They do that nervous dance for a few moments before Joong appears to make a decision of sorts.

  
The redhead’s shoulders slump, and his voice shrinks into something so tiny, it’s barely audible. At first, Seonghwa can’t hear it, and he asks Joong to speak up.

“Parkour,” Hongjoong breathes out quietly.

“Wh-Huh?” Hwa grunts.

“P… Parkour,” Joong coughs out. His face lights up like a red lantern.

“I- I’m sorry. Come again?” Hwa’s nose scrunches with confusion. “Did you just say-”

“I- I got injured doing parkour,” Hongjoong admits. His cheeks and ears match his hair at this point.

“Wait- Are you serious? Hongjoong, you- you don’t have to lie-”

“I’m serious, okay,” The redhead lets out a wry laugh. “I tried, um, jumping between buildings, and I totally wiped out. And I… I was too embarrassed to tell you because parkour is, like, the- the dumbest psuedo sports hobby someone could possibly have. So that is what happened to me.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nods as realization washes over him. “Oh.” Thank god. He genuinely thought the other was in much more perilous situations. He envisioned abusive lovers or intolerant bullies. Parkour, though, that Seonghwa can handle. 

“Y-Yeah. Oh. So, I’m just gonna…” Hongjoong swiftly walks past the wall that is Seonghwa.

“W-Wait, Hongjoong!” Hwa clamors after the other when his laggard brain catches up with what’d just happened. He catches up quickly and matches the other’s stride. “I would never judge you for your hobbies. Unless you’re a serial killer. Or a furry.”

“Is now a bad time to tell you about my fursona?” Hongjoong quips.

“It is _ always _ a bad time to tell me about your fursona.”

“Guess I shouldn’t bring up the bodies in my fridge either.”

“You know, body parts actually aren’t on the restricted list. You can have those. But no beer.”

“Huh. Screwy.”

“I know, right?”

Hongjoong giggles, “It’s kinda funny the things policymakers come up with. They’re so obsessed with maintaining order that they miss out on, like, the most obvious things.”

“I guess they figured no hiding bodies in the fridge is sort of a, uh, common sense thing.”

“Well of course it is. The freezer is probably a better bet.”

“Yeah, but the dorm fridge-freezers are super tiny. You’d be better off breaking into one of the dining halls.”

“Isn’t breaking and entering against the rules?” The redhead quirks an eyebrow.

Seonghwa shrugs, “Hey, my authority only extends to this floor.”

“Cool. I’ll make sure to commit all of my heinous crimes on the floor below.”

“That’s the spirit!” Hwa laughs. “Let Han on floor two deal with it.”

“I really appreciate your encouraging attitude. Usually when I talk redrum it’s all ‘stop stabbing me’ and ‘you’re ruining Christmas, Hongjoong’,” The redhead jokes. Seonghwa snorts, and so does Joong. The two devolve into a fit of laughter. Seonghwa isn’t sure what’s more horrible, him laughing at the joke, Hongjoong making it, or the fact that they both find it funny. It’s probably telling of his character, but he doesn’t care. Especially when he gets to share laughter with perhaps the cutest guy he’s ever seen with his own two eyes.

“I can’t blame you for the inclination, really. Not with the nonstop exams.”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong breathes out. “Not to mention projects, papers…”

“Presentations, and shit- it’s the second half of the semester. Soon it’ll be finals,” Hwa sighs. 

“Oh, please don’t remind me. This is gonna be my first time, like, going somewhere for finals. Guess I’ll have to put on clothes this time around.”

“Don’t worry, lots of people show up in pajamas,” Hwa replies. “Damn, that’s right. This is your first time at a big university. How’s the adjustment been? Was it everything you hoped and dreamed of?”

“Does anybody _ really _ hope and dream of school?” Hongjoong answers cynically.

“You would be surprised. There were a lot of people in my high school who lost their minds agonizing about the college they’d go to.”

“Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean it to, like- sound mean.”

“No, no you’re fine. I get it. It’s kinda weird how our dreams change. We go from wanting to be firefighters or fairy princesses to just thinking about what alma mater’s gonna go on our resume.”

“So why’d you choose this one?” Hongjoong asks. “Was it your dream school?”

“O-Oh, uh, me? Um, to be honest…” Hwa shrugs. “I didn’t really have a dream school which made me kinda weird. Seems like everyone else did. I just wanted somewhere that didn’t cost a million dollars in a place I didn’t hate. I mean- I wanted a decent program, so here we are.”

“A decent program for what, exactly? You never told me your major during your introductory spiel.”

“O-Oh,” Seonghwa’s ears turn pink just from recalling the awkward meeting. At least Hongjoong seems to have thawed a bit since then. “Astronomy.”

Hongjoong’s face lights up, and Seonghwa’s heart does with it. It’s like watching a flower bloom in real time. The redhead’s plush pink lips part in awe. Seonghwa swears he catches an actual twinkle in the other’s eyes.

“You wanna study the stars?” Hongjoong asks, tone soft and full of childlike wonder.

“Yup,” Seonghwa nods hoping he doesn’t look as pleased as he feels. 

“Shut up, that’s so cool!” Hongjoong slaps Hwa on the shoulder lightly. “What made you wanna do astronomy?”

Seonghwa chuckles bashfully, “It’s just, uh, something I’ve liked since I was a kid.”

“Wait- Really?”

“Yeah, though my idea of astronomy was, like, a lot different back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… I dunno. I, like, had this dream as a kid of just… Soaring through the stars. Not as an astronaut just me. Flying off to some far away land. When I was little I was under the impression that you could just reach out and touch one. Of course you’d probably burn the crap out of your hand even if you could somehow manage to sustain yourself in the vacuum of space. Plus that’s assuming the star still exists in space and hasn’t ceased to exist in the time it took you to reach it. Or it hadn’t already expired upon you seeing it- I’m sorry I’m- I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s awesome,” Hongjoong smiles again, and Hwa feels faint. “I mean- fine. It’s fine. Y’know, a lot of people I’ve talked to are here to do stuff completely different from what they wanted as kids. It’s refreshing.”

“Yeah, well, people change. There’s nothing wrong with that. I mean- What about you? Why geomatic engineering?”

“Um, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s actually similar to you.”

“Oh- Really? You wanted to be a geomatic engineer growing up?”

“No. Actually, I wanted to be a fairy king.”

“Well, you’ve got the look down.”

“_ Wow _,” Hongjoong lets out a huff. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem too offended - just a tad wounded in the ego department. 

“What? It’s a compliment! I- No, I didn’t mean it like- like stereotyping because you- I’m just saying you look great all the time. Like a- a fairy.”

“Like… A fairy?” Hongjoong’s brows raise, incredulous and humored.

“I- You know you- your hair is always so- so nice, and the color is really unique. It’s like a pinky red, you know. Sorta otherwordly.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And, I mean- You- Your highlight, you’re always glowing,” Seonghwa tries.

Hongjoong presses his lips together and furrows his brows.

Hwa panics internally. Their conversation had been going so well, how could he steer it off a cliff like that? What if this is the last time Kim Hongjoong ever willingly speaks to him? All because he called him a fairy!

“I- I’m sorry that was insensitive of me to say.”

Hongjoong glowers at Seonghwa, and the ensuing silence makes Seonghwa wish he could dig himself a grave.

  
Hongjoong responds in a low voice, “I think the only thing you can do to- to make this right is to… Is to give me a few more compliments.”

“Seriously, I’d do anything to- ‘Scuse me?” The redhead snorts. Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?

“Wh- You-”

Hongjoong laughs,“You’ve got a big heart. Too big, maybe.”

“Unbelievable.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” The redhead snarks. So he’s pretty, funny, _ and _ evil. “Remember I’m still _ livid _ with you.”

Seonghwa scoffs. Truthfully, he could give Hongjoong at least three dozen compliments based on the day’s conversation alone. But that would probably be weird. Hwa realizes that just minutes earlier he’d chased the other down and demanded information regarding a parkour injury; he feels a little obliged to indulge the other.

“You’re funny,” Seonghwa shoulders the other to punctuate the point. That gets a giggle. Hwa adds, “You are clearly intelligent to be doing geomatic engineering. And… You’re brave.”

“Brave?” Hongjoong blinks surprisedly.

“You said college scared you, but you came here anyway,” Seonghwa shrugs. “Brave. And that’s all you’re getting out of me. Now it’s your turn.”

“Wha- To what? Compliment you?” Hongjoong laughs.

“No. Just tell me why geomatic engineering? It seems sort of niche.”

The redhead replies,“Okay, so, I didn’t know what geomatics was, but, um… It’s not far off from your reasoning, I guess. As a kid I always had an affinity for, uh, far off places. When I learned about the geomatics field, I thought it was the best modern way to explore the world and find, like, hidden, faraway lands.”

“Oh!” Seonghwa gasps. “So, what, like you wanna find the lost city of Atlantis?”

A coy smile crosses the redhead’s lips, and he nods, “Yeah. Something like that.” He looks up through his lashes and catches Seonghwa’s gaze. Hwa’s pretty sure his heart gets tangled up somewhere in those, too. It’s been a long, long time since he felt like this. He’s encountered his fair share of hotties and had plenty of crushes. This, though, this feels _ different _. He doesn’t know why. He’s only talked to Hongjoong twice now. Yet the way his heart skips a beat, the way Seonghwa finds himself hanging on every word, is totally incomparable to anything else.

“So, um, this is me,” Hongjoong laughs awkwardly. Seonghwa blinks, willing all of the hearts and sparkles superimposed by his boy-crazy brain to disappear. He glances at the door they’re standing by. How long have they been standing there, talking about nothing? The walk from where he’d spotted Joong to their dorms is pitifully short. But they’ve been going back and forth for, what? Ten minutes? Near fifteen? A wave of embarrassment washes over Seonghwa upon the realization that he’d walked past his dorm and stood stupidly outside Hongjoong’s for so long. Determined to play it cool, he employs his best coping mechanism: denial.

“Wh- Oh, it is? I thought this was my dorm,” Seonghwa gasps.

“Your dorm is right over there,” Hongjoong points to Seonghwa’s suite. “Second from the-”

“Yeah, second from the right, I got it.” So much for denial.

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door,” Hongjoong says with a smile.

With denial out of commission, Hwa uses his second best coping mechanism: shitty humor, “It’s a dangerous world out there. I wanted to make sure you made it safe.”

“Did you, now?”

“Well, more properly, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try to jump off of any of the common room furniture. Since that’s apparently a hobby of yours.”

“Oh my god-!” Hongjoong slaps Seonghwa gain, and his cheeks pinken. “I- I shouldn’t have said that.”

  
“It’s too late now.”

“Right, well, I am going to go inside and think about the consequences of my life choices so…”

“Yeah. Have a good evening, Hongjoong,” Hwa smiles at the other and steps back. “And put some ice on that injury!”

Hongjoong steps through the door to his suite, but before he goes in, he pokes his head out, “W-Wait, um.”

  
“Hm?” Seonghwa turns on his heel.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong says shyly from behind the door.

“For what?”

“For- For caring. You’re alright.”

“I’m alright?” Seonghwa chuckles. “Just alright? After you made me give you _ glowing _ praise, I just get alright?

“Not gonna lie, I thought you’d be a total square.”

“What? Seriously?”

“I know, I know. Don’t judge the book by the cover and all that.”

“No, I- I get it. It’s the RA thing. A lot of people hold their breath around me like I’m gonna write them up for fun. I don’t blame you.”

“It’s um, not quite that, actually. I just-” Joong shrugs, “-you seem so grown up. Guess I thought that would make you… Act old and stuff.”

“Grown up?” Seonghwa’s face squashes with befuddlement.

“Catch you later!” Hongjoong waves and shuts the door abruptly.

“Wh- Grown up?” Seonghwa isn’t sure if he should be offended or flattered. “Grown up” implies he seems like he’s got his shit together. At least, he thinks that’s one way to interpret it. It could also mean he gives off the impression of someone bitter and elderly. He doesn’t really care, though, because _ Hongjoong _ said it.

The short walk Seonghwa takes to his dorm is one taken on clouds. Warm happiness glows in his heart, and dizzying lightness fills his head. He swears, he might lift off the floor and fly away.

  
For a few blissful moments, Seonghwa wallows in the head-spinning sensation of giddiness. He forgets his exams, job, and obligations, and for just those few minutes, allows himself to be purely, unfilteredly, unadulteratedly happy.

* * *

“Holy fucking shit, are you braindead?!” Wooyoung throws a pack of ramen noodles at Seonghwa.

“Wh- Hey! Fuck you!” Seonghwa bats the orange packet away. Yeo and Woo opted to rent for their second year. Having a place with no extraneous, non-friend roomies turned their place into the sort of default for gathering. Given that the group of friends are all dying due to late-semester midterms and papers, they all agreed to have a lazy friday night. 

Wooyoung grabs another ramen pack off the kitchen table. In the cramped space, that means he’s no more than a meter away. How all seven of them manage to cram in there, Seonghwa still doesn’t know. There has to be a fire code violation happening or something. San sits on Mingi’s lap in the loveseat - how they get any studying done in that position, Hwa has no idea. He supposes they probably don’t, actually. Being the oldest, he was granted dibs on the best spot on the couch. Next to him, Jongho and Yeosang cram themselves into the remainder of the hand-me-down piece of furniture. Yunho doesn’t even bother with a seat, perching on the floor between Jongho’s legs. Some anime none of them care too much about plays on the TV as they sort-of study.

Perhaps if Hwa hadn’t mentioned his little moment with Hongjoong, people would actually be studying. Seonghwa couldn’t keep it in, though. Playing it off in texts was hard enough. Once his friends pressed him, he exploded like a chocolate lava cake. Now, he has some regrets.

Yeosang laughs, “I’m with Woo on this one. It’s obvious he was giving you some signs.”

“Yeah,” Mingi adds. “Like massive neon ones.”

“You’d know about those, wouldn’t you?” Yeo jabs. Mingi lets out a cross of a choking noise and a laugh while the one on his lap appears completely oblivious.

“I dunno. He probably just wanted a, like, boost for his ego,” Seonghwa waves dismissively. “I mean we have literally talked twice.”

“So what?” Woo says. “Nobody’s saying you gotta marry him. Or even ask him out on a proper date.”

“I’m sorry- What?” Hwa guffaws.

Wooyoung giggles,“You know, you could just-” He starts pelvic thrusting the air.

Yunho on the ground gasps, “Oh come on, Wooyoung!” Seonghwa opens his mouth to thank him, but Yunho adds, “Hongjoong could be a top. It could be like this-” He starts bouncing awkwardly in a sad attempt to pantomime cowgirl position.

“Fuck’s sake,” Seonghwa covers his eyes. He can’t watch this. What are they, twelve? The tiny living area thunders with cackling and giggles.

“Seriously, though,” Yeosang, always the voice of reason, cuts in. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Do about what?” Hwa makes the mistake of uncovering his eyes and sees that Woo and Yunho are still at it. Weirdos. 

“Uh, your schoolboy crush - what else?”

“I- I do not have a schoolboy crush,” Embarrassment sends heat rushing to Seonghwa’s cheeks. “I just think he’s cool.”

“Uh-huh,” Yeo responds flatly. 

“Wh- I do not- And would you two stop that!?” Seonghwa scolds the two who still insist on making lewd gestures. The pair laugh like kids in school who’d got caught passing notes. They’re idiots, but they’re Seonghwa’s idiots. “I mean, sure, he’s cool and funny and cute, but like-”

Jongho boisterously cuts his elder off, draping himself on top of Seonghwa’s lap and clutching his heart dramatically, “And I told him he looks like a _ fairy _ because it’s true. He _ twinkles _ with _ magical _ fairy dust, and when he smiles the sun shines brighter.” He fake swoons, eliciting another round of laughter.

“I- I do not sound like that, you little shit!”

“-And he’s _ so _ petite and little I just wanna hold him in my big, strong arms-”

“I did not say that. I said he was petite. I didn’t say shit about my big, strong arms, which- thank you, by the way.”

Jongho suddenly grabs Seonghwa’s collar, “Take me to fairyland, daddy.”

And with that, a line is crossed. Seonghwa pinches Jongho’s nose and covers his mouth with the other hand.

“Take it back,” Seonghwa demands. He knows it’s sort of contradictory considering he’s barring the other from breathing. Jongho flails, making muffled sounds protest. “Are you sorry, Jongho?”

“Jesus!” “Oh my god- you’re gonna kill him!”

“You sorry?” Seonghwa asks assertively. Jongho flails more, but Hwa doesn’t relent. “I said, are you sorry? Yes or no! Nod your head-” Jongho nods furiously, and Hwa releases his hold on the other’s face. “That’s better.” 

“You’re a monster,” Jongho wheezes. 

Seonghwa smiles sweetly, “Naughty children get disciplined.” He pats Jongho on the cheek affectionately.

“God forbid we want you to be happy,” Jongho pouts, crossing his arms, and grumbles, “Maybe if you got laid you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Jongho plasters on a deferent smile.

“So, what,” Yeosang interjects. He speaks in a low voice, and something about him has a sort of soothing effect on Seonghwa. The eldest ignores his annoyance and gives his full attention to the other. “You’re just gonna do… Nothing?”

“As opposed to what?” Seonghwa says. 

“Dude, just ask him out!” Wooyoung yells from his spot in front of the stove.

“Okay, just because you talk to someone once doesn’t mean they’re interested.”

“Do we have to have the ‘you’re hot’ conversation again? Because you are, you know. You’re hot. Like. Really hot. You could have a shit personality and half the student body would still want a piece of you just for your looks alone.”

Seonghwa laughs bashfully, “Well, unlike half the student body he’s actually heard me speak. And, uh, like I told you guys it wasn’t my finest moment.”

“I don’t think it sounded _ that _ bad,” San comments generously. “He laughed at your jokes.”

“Yeah, but let’s say I ask him out. Then what? I mean- Like- I don’t even know what- what we’d do-”

“The fuck do you mean?” Woo says. “You take him out. Then you-”

“Do _ not _ thrust again,” Seonghwa demands.

“I was gonna say have a good time.”

“Mhm.”

“I was-”

Yeosang grins,“You really like this guy, don’t you?”

“What?” Hwa squeaks. 

“You do, I can tell. You get all nervous just talking about him.”

“I- I…” Seonghwa doesn’t know what to answer to that. It’s true. He really does have a devastating crush on Hongjoong. He doesn’t know for the life of him why. Sure, Hongjoong is cute, charming, and funny - but there are loads of cute, charming, funny guys out there. Seonghwa’s talked to a few of them, many more than twice. But for some reason, the crush he has on Hongjoong feels different. It’s not just a passing infatuation or desire to hook up.

Seonghwa doesn’t know what it is.

“I dunno,” Hwa finally shrugs. “He’s just… There’s something about him.” He gets a chorus of “awws” in response, followed by more gushy remarks and teasing. Eventually, the topic changes, but Hongjoong manages to come up often. The group doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to tease Seonghwa. When given an inch, they take a mile.

If only Seonghwa could understand why his feelings are so intense. It’s almost like the emotions had all been dammed up for years, and seeing Hongjoong for the first time made the damn break. They all just flooded Seonghwa without giving him time to process and comprehend.

But why?

Why?

* * *

Sunlight gleams brightly down into the forest clearing. Seonghwa holds his arms out and pretends to be a plant. He lets the warmth sink into his skin and invigorate him. It smells like grass and rainwater in the forest, and the sound of the other lost boys chattering echoes across the space. 

It’s lunchtime now. The lost boys packed a picnic basket to the brim with fruits and jerky. Seonghwa smuggled in some goods of his own including chocolate chip cookies and sandwiches he made himself. Basically, they’re about to have the most awesome lunch ever. It’s nice to slow things down, too. They’d spent the whole morning acting out plays which is no simple task. There’s the stage production to take into account, the costuming - not to mention the acting itself! Seonghwa feels confident that the lost boys’ production of Macbeth is perhaps the greatest triumph of theater he’s ever known. Putting aliens in was a really nice touch in his opinion. But alas, all good things must come to an end, and when the curtain drew, their tummies grumbled loudly, signalling that their foray into theater was through.

“Let’s put the blanket over there!” One of the lost boys shouts. 

“I want an apple- hey, can you split it for me?” “Gimme a cookie.” “I’m gonna take a nap.”

Seonghwa runs alongside the others and helps them set up. They lay down a raggedy old blanket and set out their delicious feast. The great thing about being around all kids is that nobody cares when you eat or how loudly. Nobody says grace, and manners are limited to “don’t snatch food out of someone’s mouth”. The lost boys dig in, recounting their favorite moments of the morning.

“-think you made a great Lady Macbeth,” Hongjoong jokes to one of the lost boys - an almost frail looking boy who doesn’t talk as much. Maddox - a mere twinkle perched atop Joong’s shoulder - rings boisterously. The redhead throws his head back in laughter, and it’s like the sun shines extra bright on him. Seonghwa has to clench his fists extra hard to hold back the ugly bubbling feeling in his chest.

He made a promise, one he intends to keep. 

Seonghwa tears his eyes off of the lost boys’ leader and instead glances around the clearing. There’s a stream not far off. The grass is long and dances in the wind. A soft rustling sounds out every time the breeze stirs the tall blades. Out from the green, dozens of flowers splotch the landscape with bursts of pretty color. Hwa, distracted, spots a brilliant crimson flower.

It’s so pretty, Seonghwa has to pick it. He crawls across the grass over to the bloom and inspects it carefully. The stem is long, but there aren’t thorns thankfully. It ought to be easy enough to pick. Just as he thought, the flower unearths easily. Seonghwa gives it a sniff. The scent is nice and mild, fragrant without being overwhelming like an old lady’s perfume. Its stem is a bit flimsy - no, flexible. It wraps around Seongwha’s fingers easily, and he wonders if he could wear it as a ring.

  
That gives him an idea.

“What’re you doing all by yourself?” Hongjoong’s voice gives Seonghwa such a shock, he jolts up. He’d been on his own for a few minutes at least. Maybe more, if Joong noticed. 

“U-Uh-” Hwa hides his little project behind his back.

“What’ve you got there?” Hongjoong giggles, looping around.

Seonghwa pivots, keeping his front to Hongjoong’s, “Nothing.”

“You’re hiding something.”

“N-No I’m not.”

“C’mon, Hwa.”

“What?”

“It’s not nice to hide things.”

“It’s- It’s nothing, really.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah- oof!” Force collides with Hwa, knocking him to the ground. The two tussle on the ground.“J-Joong!”

“Hwa just give it over, I just wanna see it!”

“Hongjoong, wait- You’re gonna crush it-”

  
“What is it?!”

  
“Just- Just get off of me!”

“Okay, fine! But you gotta show me,” Hongjoong relents.

Seonghwa frowns, “I wasn’t finished yet, but… Here.” Hwa reluctantly reveals what he’d been hiding. He wanted to perfect it. The base structure is there, but Seonghwa knows it could really use some improvement. Inspired by Hongjoong’s laugh and the crimson flower, Hwa set out to make a flower crown. He was hoping to make it big and luscious, but he’d only managed about one basic chain.

“It… It was gonna be for you. I mean, it is, but, I didn’t finish it. Sorry.”

“F-For me?” Hongjoong points to himself, shocked.

“Well, yeah. You’re the leader, and I mean, look at all the flowers,” Seonghwa lifts the crown up. “See? They match your hair. I was gonna add some white ones and more leafy stuff-”

“I love it,” Hongjoong says. “This is awesome. Can I- Can I have it?”

“Well, I was gonna add more stuff, but if you like it now. Go ahead, it’s for you.”

Hongjoong beams and takes the crown delicately. He gently perches it atop his head.

“How do I look?”

“Like Oberon, King of the Fairies,” Seonghwa replies with a grin.

Hongjoong tilts his head inquisitively, “Like who?”

“Oberon, the King of Fairies. He’s a character in a play.”

“I don’t think I know that one- which one is it?”

“Oh, it’s just a, um- I don’t think you’d like it very much, actually. But, um, Oberon is cool. He’s funny.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Sweet. Being a Fairy King sounds kinda awesome.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d have so many awesome powers. Flying for sure.”

“A hundred-percent flying. I’d love to be able to, like, make flowers bloom with a pass of my hand,” Joong acts out the gesture, slowly running his palm over a few blades of grass. “Or what if I could alter the weather with my moods?”

“Sounds pretty powerful.”

“Of course-” Hongjoong plucks one of the long blades of grass out of the ground, “-you have to be my most faithful knight.”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do, so get down on one knee.”

“What- Why?”

“I’m gonna knight you, dummy!”

“Wh- Okay, fine,” Seonghwa laughs. He does as instructed getting perching onto one knee.

  
“I, Hongjoong, King of Fairies, pronounce you, Park Seonghwa, as my most honorable, faithful, loyal knight,” Joong taps the grass on one of Hwa’s shoulders. “I give you the task of protecting the Fairy Kingdom and all the good people residing in it.” He taps Hwa’s other shoulder. “Will you take the oath, good sir?”

Seonghwa smiles as he bows his head, “Your wish is my command, King Hongjoong. It is my honor to serve you.”

“Then so it shall be that you will serve and protect the crown forevermore.”

“Gladly, your majesty,” Seonghwa says with a smile. The two look into each other’s eyes and laugh a little. The moment is interrupted quickly, though, as a couple of lost boys come running toward them.

“He farted on me! Help!” “I’m gonna do it again!” “Ew, gross!” “Hongjoong, tell him to stop it!”

Hongjoong snorts, “I’m the Fairy King and you will obey me!” He shouts. “My first ordinance as king is a ban on farting!”

“Then I guess that makes me an enemy of the crown!” The guilty lost boy bellows. “I’ll pass gas as I please, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

Seonghwa jumps onto his feet and yells, “Not on my watch! As a knight of the Fairy Kingdom I will plug your treacherous butt if it’s the last thing I do! For the kingdom! Ahh!” He screams as he runs toward the other. 

Things go off kilter after that. Just as abruptly as one chapter ends, the page turns to another. The intimate little promises are kicked to the wayside in favor of more pressing matters. They play well into the afternoon, until the sun starts dipping below the treeline. No matter how distracted or roughed up Hongjoong gets, he always minds his crown.

* * *

Loud bass pounds through the windows of the shitty club. People pour out onto the front patio. Even though it’s freezing outside, girls bravely don their strappy dresses, and guys tail them with sleeves rolled up and cold beers in hand. The spot is sort of a weekend fixture for the student body. It’s within drunk stumbling distance of both the dorms and off-campus housing. They don’t charge too much, and the drinks - while objectively awful - are fairly strong. Overall, the spot gives a pretty big bang for buck if one compares the dollars spent to alcohol consumed ratio. It’s the sort of place that everyone goes to because, well everyone goes to it. Seonghwa doesn’t like it, but he somehow keeps winding up at the place. He blames it on himself for having younger friends.

Seems like every time someone turns legal, the squad goes through phases of indulging the newly initiated drinker. Except, with everyone’s birthdays so damn close, this happens every few months. Hwa’s coping solution is to drink until the cramped quarters and overzealous thirsty types don’t bother him so much. But, occasionally even that doesn’t work. Not in the mood to drink, he opts to just remove himself from the place entirely.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath of the crisp, night air. His breath makes fog as he exhales. The bar is so crowded, it feels nice to emerge into the cool night. The bone cold breeze reminds him that winter is just around the corner. With it comes finals, the holidays, and all too soon the next semester. Figures - even when he’s buzzed outside a club on a Friday night, Seonghwa still can’t get his mind off of school. Maybe he should drink more.

Hwa’s got half a mind to text the guys and tell him he’s going home. He feels lame as hell for doing it, but his heart’s not in it today.

“-ww don’t walk away!” A slurred shout down the sidewalk draws Seonghwa’s attention. Hwa gasps. He immediately recognizes the person striding down the sidewalk quickly. Most of his hair is tucked into a beanie, but a few strands of the telltale strawberry red stick out here and there. Who Hwa doesn’t recognize is the dudes stumbling behind him. Judging by Hongjoong’s tense expression and the way he keeps his hands buried in his pockets, neither does he.

“C’mon fairy princess, why don’t you take me to fairyland?” Another one of the drunks jeers. Anger pierces Seonghwa’s chest and spreads to every corner of his body. What kind of creep follows a person around to shout insults at them? He clenches his fists as he rushes to join Hongjoong’s side.

“Hey!” One of the jackasses shouts, sounding more angry. “Turn around! Don’t ignore me! You know you want a piece of this.”

Seonghwa tries to ignore them, practically running to Joong’s side and looping an arm around his shoulders, “Hey, Hongjoong,” He whispers. “You alright? Who are these guys- what happened?”

Hongjoong casts a cursory glance over his shoulder, “I’m fine-”

“Hey!” The same jackass who’d been hollering before barks. “That your boyfriend?”

“Just ignore them,” Seonghwa instructs calmly. “I’m gonna walk you to the dorm.”

“It’s- it’s fine,” Hongjoong tries to sound cool, but Seonghwa can hear the quivering in his voice. “I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“It’s not fine. C’mon let’s g-”

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” The most beligerent of the three dudes shouts.

Seonghwa shouts back,“God- Leave us alone!”

“Uh- ‘Scuse me?” The red-faced drunk slurs.

“Just- Just go away. Drink some water, fuck’s sake.”

“Y’know ‘fore you swooped in I was tryna have a conversation.”

“Bullshit,” Seonghwa’s patience is starting to wear thin, but he reigns back his anger. He just wants to get Hongjoong home safe. That’s his top priority. “Just leave it alone.”

“How about you lemme finish-” The shithead lunges forward and makes a move to grab Joong by the wrist.

Seonghwa roughly shoves the drunk off, furious, “Don’t _ fucking _ touch him!”

The drunkard scoffs, and his lackeys have the gall to laugh. He snorts and his face contorts into an ugly expression of humor.

“I’m just tryna show fairyboy here what a real man is like, thas’ all,” He conspicuously checks Hwa out up and down, sizing him up.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong grabs Hwa by the sleeve, “Hwa it’s fine, just- just go-”

“You stay away from him,” Seonghwa responds to the shithead unflinchingly. Almost every cell in his body vibrates with rage.

“I think I’mma do what I want. You should listen to princess over there and just go-” The fucker lunges toward Hongjoong again, reaching for his wrist. “-cause you sure as _ fuck _ wouldn’t know what to do with a tight ass like that.” His groupies cackle like hyenas in the background. “C’mere, princess-” The apparent ringleader reaches for Hongjoong again, and Seonghwa shoves him back roughly.

“I said stay away,” Seonghwa growls.

The drunkard stumbles back a few steps, but unfortunately, he catches himself,“Wh- Oh, you fucked up now. C’mere bitch-”

“Hey!” A booming voice down the sidewalk hollers. Hwa checks over his shoulder to see who it is, and he immediately backs off, hands up. The cop picks up into a fast walk and heads in their direction, “What’s going on over there? Break it up!”

“Shit-!” “Bolt.” “Fuck you!” “We gotta go-” The group of assholes scatteres like roaches, leaving Seonghwa and Hongjoong to give an explanation.

Seonghwa heaves a deep sigh. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s stuck talking to the cop. Those bastards are gone, and Hongjoong is safe. That’s what counts.

“There a problem here, guys?” The cop asks when he gets to the pair left on the sidewalk.

Seonghwa opens his mouth to explain, but it’s Hongjoong that speaks first.

“No, officer,” Joong says. “Just bumped into a couple of guys who had too much is all. My friend is walking me home now.”

“Alright. Stay safe,” The cop seems happy to accept the shallow explanation before walking back toward his post near the club.

Seonghwa frowns, “Why didn’t you tell him you were getting harassed?”

Hongjoong starts walking, “Like he’d give a shit.”

“Hongjoong, you could’ve gotten hurt. That was serious harassment, you should’ve said something.”

The redhead sighs loudly, “Okay, and then what? We have to give him statements and our information and… For what? You really think they’re gonna look into this? I was getting catcalled.”

“They were making gross comments about you. One of them tried to _ touch _ you. And- and they outnumber you, too.”

“Okay, you’re the one who almost started a fight,” Hongjoong responds. “What if the cop didn’t come by? What then?”

Hwa’s mouth flaps open and closed. He didn’t think of that before. Actually, all he could think about was making sure Hongjoong was okay - and that those guys paid for being disgusting. 

“Yeah,” Joong says, knowing damn well he’s right. “Thought so. I would’ve been fine, really.”

“I wasn’t just gonna stand by and watch you get harassed.”

Hongjoong lets out an airy chuckle and shakes his head, “You are so…”

“I’m what?” Seonghwa asks. He tries to alleviate the tension, bumping Joong gently,“I’m _ what _?”

“You’re a real knight in shining armor, aren’t you?” Hongjoong says with a grin.

“Well, that was also on my list of dream jobs as a kid,” Seonghwa snarks.

“Oh my god I- I see it.”

“Wh- You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“It’s not it’s just- it’s funny.”

“Funny?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong sticks his tongue out, “It’s funny.”

The two go back and forth on their walk to the dorm. Fifteen minutes later, they’re in front of Seonghwa’s door. Hwa sort of word vomited an invitation to hang out. There was some mention of watching anime or movies and a promise of snacks. He didn’t expect the acceptance, but much to his elation (and partial dread), Hongjoong actually said yes.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Seonghwa mutters as he gestures into his room. Another RA perk is that he’s got a single. There’s no fancy living area, but he’s got space for what he needs: a bed, a desk, a closet and room to get dressed. He’s even got his own bathroom which he can’t deny was a _ huge _ factor in his decision to apply for an RA job.

Hongjoong laughs, “What- what are you talking about? This is, like, super clean.”

“I mean, I like things neat,” Hwa shrugs, “But it’s not up to standard.”

“Up to whose standards?” Hongjoong asks.

“Mine.”

“Okay, remind me to never let you into my room.”

Hwa shakes his head and chuckles, “Well, you can sit on the bed or in the chair. I’m gonna fill the kettle up. What kind of tea do you like?”

“Oh- You don’t have to-”

“Oh, I have a filter pitcher, too. Or, if you like juice, I think I have some orange juice…”

“No, I mean, you don’t need to-”

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa cuts the other’s objections off. “I understand it sounded like a question, but it wasn’t really question. You come into my room, you’re eating or drinking something. Period.”

“That’s… Nice? Or scary.”

“Pick a drink!” Seonghwa tells the other from his bathroom.

“Uh- Black tea?” Hongjoong calls back. “If- If you have sugar-”

“Got it!” Hwa says. He can’t quite pin down why, but a happy smile crosses his lips as he watches the electric kettle fill with water. It finally hits him that he’s here, in his room, hanging out with Hongjoong. The prettiest boy he’s ever known. His savage dorm neighbor. The guy he’s been obsessing over for months at this point.

Seonghwa emerges from the bathroom with a stupid grin as he sets the kettle down on its perch and turns it on. He turns to say something stupid to Hongjoong, but the redhead’s expression makes him stop in his tracks. Hongjoong sits in Hwa’s egg-shaped lounge chair hugging his knees. His eyes have a faraway look in them as he stares at the ground, and his lips are set down into a frown.

Hwa crosses over to that side of the room and grabs the extra blanket he keeps at the foot of his bid. He kneels down in front of the egg chair and extends the soft knit blanket as an offering.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa says softly.

“Nothing,” Joong spits out reflexively.

“Hongjoong, I didn’t even ask anything.”

“O-Oh, right…”

“But, now I’m gonna.”

“Dammit.”

“Yeah, I know, I suck,” Hwa jokes weakly. “You know I’m gonna ask what’s up.”

“You’re right,” Hongjoong replies. “You do suck.”

Hwa laughs, “Yeah I’m the worst, but, um… Seriously, what is it? I mean- If you really don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. You just don’t seem like yourself.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a minute. He presses his lips together, and his pupils dart around like he’s trying to think about something. Apparently coming to a decision, the redhead lets out a heavy breath and nods.

“Those guys,” Hongjoong starts with a sniffle. When he finally looks Seonghwa in the eye, his own are wet. “I just- I don’t get it. Why? Why did they-?” He throws his hands up.

“Because they’re assholes, to put it lightly.”

“I- I didn’t do anything,” Honjoong sounds so small, so defeated. “I did _ nothing. _ I was just- just buying some snacks from the damn convenience store. I didn’t have my hat on, and- and they just- they saw my hair and piercings and started to- to-” He buries his face in his hands.

Seonghwa gently drapes the blanket he’d been holding over Hongjoong’s shoulders. The redhead graciously accepts the offering, wrapping himself in the fabric thightly.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says. He wishes there’s something more he could do. His heart aches knowing that with that experience, a little peace of mind got taken away from Hongjoong. That’s the thing with stuff like that. Even if “nothing happens”, it makes the person feel just a little less safe. It makes them question th eintentions of htose around them and carry themselves in a diffferent way. It breaks Hwa’s heart - especially knowing Hongjoong had to go through that.

“It’s just-” Hongjoong sniffs loudly and wipes his face, “I guess I was pretty sheltered at home. In high school we had a strict dress code. Then I took classes online, I- I guess I just didn’t know- I never expected something like that to- to actually happen. And I guess, like, I thought in my head that if it did I would- I dunno- I would do something about it. Like- I thought I’d fight back or something, but… I just wanted nothing more than to run away.”

“You are not obligated to fight back or anything. Your priority should be safety,” Seonghwa says. He wishes he could just hug the shit out of the other guy right now, but now more than ever he knows he has to respect boundaries. It’s just so damn hard seeing Hongjoong like this. He’s so used to seeing the redhead bright and smiley. Not like this. Not vulnerible.

“Right, fighting back is your job,” Hongjoong jokes weakly.

Seonghwa laughs sheepishly, “Yeah, exactly.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

“No problem. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“You really are like a knight. All honorable and good,” Hongjoong says. He and Seonghwa’s eyes meet, and the room goes silent. Seonghwa knows he should say something. It’s weird, he tells himself. A person can’t just stare into another person’s eyes like this and not say something. That’s too much. Plastering a sign that says “I’M INTO YOU” on his forehead would be more subtle at this point. However, any attempt at speaking gets caught in Hwa’s throat. Honestly, he can’t even begin to formulate words when Hongjoong is looking him in the eyes like that. He’s so beautiful and witty, but his usual barrier of snarkiness is down. Instead of savage banter, there’s a realness to him, and Seonghwa is way too intimidated by that to muster words.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says quietly. “Can I tell you something? If- If I tell you something, even if it sounds crazy, do you promise to at least- at least try and believe me?”

“Anything,” Seonghwa responds. “I trust you. You can tell me anything.”

Hongjoong worries at his lower lip for a few moments before choking out, “Hwa, the truth is that I- I am-”

“Beep! Beep!” The electric kettle chirps, indicating its completion.

“Oh, that’s the water!” Seonghwa stands up. “Do you want me to get the tea or- No, that can wait, first what was it that you-”

“No go ahead,” Hongjoong says.

“It can wait. What is it you wanted to tell me-”

“Go get the tea!” Hongjoong almost yells at Hwa. The older student’s brows knit in confusion. The redhead coughs out an elaboration, “I’m- I’m cold. Sorry. I just mean- You can get it, please. Don’t let it get cold.”

“O-Okay,” Hwa shrugs and obliges, pouring steaming water over bags of earl grey. He carefully carries a mug over to Hongjoong, gently pressing, “Right, so, um, what is it you wanted to tell me. It sounded important.”

“Oh, it- it wasn’t really. Actually I think I forget.”

“You were saying something about yourself,” Hwa tries to jog the other’s memories. “You said that you were… Something.”

“I- I dunno…”

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, “I don’t wanna press, but I’m serious if you want to share anything- even if it’s, like, insane, I will trust you. I bet it’s not even that crazy. You can share whatever, I’m serious-”

“I’m your- uh- I am a- a- a virgin!” Hongjoong blurts out.

Seonghwa nearly falls over. The sudden lurch in motion causes nearly-boiling water to spill onto his hand, and he bites down on his tongue to keep himself from screaming. He probably looks just as shocked as he feels, because Hongjoong rushes to clear the air.

“See, I told you it- it wasn’t important. Though, apparently it is crazy.”

“No- No it’s fine,” Seonghwa squeaks out. When did the room get ten degrees hotter? “I was just- just surprised. It’s not weird.” Why would Hongjoong tell him that? Sure, Hwa said anything, but that?! Seonghwa puts a momentous effort into not reading too much into Hongjoong’s oversharing of his sexual history (or lack thereof). He shakily hands the mug of earl grey over to Hongjoong, plastering on his most casual, reassuring, definitely-not-dying smile.

“No, no it is weird,” Hongjoong replies wryly.

“It- It’s not common, maybe, but it’s not weird,” Hwa tries to reassure the other. He takes a seat at his desk chair and scoots it so he’s across from Joong. God knows he needs to sit down after having that little news nugget dropped on him. 

“Uh- Sorry for, um, for blurting that out,” Hongjoong’s cheeks flush, and Seonghwa almost forgets that he’s having a moral crisis internally. “I just- With, um, with those guys and the way they talked to me and stuff, I dunno it just… I was- was thinking about that kind of stuff. Like, how I just… I guess I’m not comfortable with- with that.”

Seonghwa feels incredibly torn. Part of him is genuinely eager to hear the other out, to listen to him and to comfort him. A wretched, demonic part of his mind rushes to unholy places, and his rational side begs Hongjoong to just stop so his inner gremlin can stop running rampant with fantasies. Especially after what just happened, Seonghwa feels extra disgusting even thinking of Hongjoong like that. It’s indecent, and Hongjoong deserves much better.

“Uh-huh,” Seonghwa nods. He doesn’t really know how to respond. Listening seems like the better option, anyway. 

“I can’t believe I just said that,” Hongjoong covers his face with a hand. “Oh my god. I- I can’t _ believe _ I just said that to you. Oh god, I’m so sorry- I really just was like: ‘hey, what’s up, I’m a virgin’ to your face.”

“Hi virgin, I’m Seonghwa,” Hwa wants to hang himself. He can’t think of a time his fallback of dad humor has ever been so catastrophic. God, he wants to die. Hongjoong, equally as appalled by the genuinely horrific joke, can only respond with a wide-eyed look of awe and secondhand embarrassment.

“See, we’re even now,” Seonghwa laughs pitifully at his own pathetic existence. “One impulsive, humiliating outburst for another.”

“Right, that’s- that’s how that works,” Joong coughs out, face beet red.

“How about we never mention this again,” Seonghwa proposes.

“That’s- Yeah let’s- let’s do that.”

“Right, okay, um- A movie. We were gonna watch a show or a movie,” Seonghwa tries to recover the situation. “Do you, um, do you have any preference?”

Hongjoong looks up in thought for a second before answering, “Um… Do you mind cartoons?”

“Wh- I love cartoons,” Hwa smiles. Who doesn’t love a good cartoon? “What were you thinking?”

“How about… Beauty and the Beast?”

“Ooh, good choice!”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

Seonghwa fires up his TV and puts the movie on. A wave of nostalgia hits him as the signature opening card of the studio plays. Gradually, the awkwardness dissipates. Hongjoong’s frown lifts into a smile as the two shamelessly belt out the opening song, and all the heaviness from before lifts. It occurs to Hwa that the two have really had very little meaningful conversation. Yet it feels like he and Joong had been friends for years. The ease with which they lapse into conversation, the way that neither cares that they’re off key. Occasionally, one of them brushes a hand too close or their eyes linger on the other’s too long. That’s when Seonghwa remembers that, no, they haven’t been friends for years.

But still, it feels so damn nice to just be with Hongjoong. Seonghwa almost forgets that he’d gone to the club with his friends. It isn’t until more than halfway through the movie that Hwa notices the massive amount of notifications he’s missed. He sends a quick text to assure them everything’s fine, and that’s it. The rest of the night is spent traipsing through childhood favorites that never lost their luster. 

By the start of movie three, Hongjoong’s nodding off. The redhead insists he was “just thinking” and “watching with his eyes closed”, but after sleeping through the _ best song _ in Anastasia, Hwa asserts that enough is enough. He walks the other to the door and the two bid a prolonged, sleepy farewell.

Seonghwa feels a pit form in his chest upon returning to his empty room. It’s like Hongjoong took a part of Hwa’s heart with him when he disappeared into his dorm and went to bed.

* * *

Hongjoong lets out a dying noise as he wrings his hands down his face. Seonghwa chuckles, smiling fondly at the other. He’s officially whipped, and honestly, he doesn’t care. Belting out Beauty and the Beast songs with a person means something. For them, it served as a catalyst to jumpstart their hesitant friendship. There’s still a lot of awkwardness between them. Seonghwa can’t quite place it. Conversation flows well enough. It’s just cohabitating in space that trips them up. The two of them seem to have engaged in a nonverbal agreement to keep their distance. Seonghwa is so used to doting on his juniors, having someone draped across his lap and resting on his shoulder. It’s not like he’s gonna _ throw _himself at Joong, but a little affection wouldn’t hurt. If the other threw himself at him, he certainly would not be opposed.

Aside from the physical distance, Hwa’s found hanging out with him super pleasant. Weirdly enough, it’s just sitting around, kind of ignoring each other that makes him the happiest. Something about just hanging out in the other’s presence is soothing. Like, they’re alone, but they’re alone together. They just sort of happily coexist. It’s nice.

“Wh- Is she getting back with him?” Hongjoong scoffs at the drama on screen. He’s taken his usual post on the egg chair while Hwa spread out on his bed. Seonghwa’s single room makes for an ideal study spot. It’s quiet, clean, and there’s no competition for plugs. They can talk if they want to and eat a five course meal without a sideways glance.

“Oh- Hm. I guess she is,” Seonghwa frowns. The two both agreed on a drama as nonsense background noise. They picked some highly rated romance nonsense. Something engaging enough to warrant the occasional distraction without actually drawing their attention. “Again.”

“I am literally so confused,” Joong shakes his head. “This guy’s so mean to her. All he does is talk down to her and tell her how she’s not good enough.”

“Yeah, but he’s rich. So it’s okay.”

“Wh- How does that make sense!? Her childhood friend is way better,” Hongjoong huffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but you know he’s the comic relief character. He’ll be there to pick her up when she’s down so she can gain the confidence to finally confront the rich guy. Rich douche will finally own up to his crap and say he was being rude because of his feelings. They’ll probably live happily ever after too- of course, not after, like, another ten episodes of this back and forth.”

“But why?” Hongjoong throws his hands up. “Why?!”

“I dunno. People eat this shit up, though,” Hwa shrugs.

“I mean, look at that jerk-” Hongjoong gestures to the rich guy on screen. “-with his… Stupid hair and suit. Who wears a suit_ all the time _?”

“Corporate types, I guess?” Hwa chuckles. He never thought of Joong as the type to get so fired up over dramas.

“I mean- What’s so bad about her childhood friend, anyway? Sure, he’s not rich, but he has literally everything else. He’s kind, lifts her up, cares for her, he’s patient… He’s not broke, either!” Joong huffs.

“I dunno. Maybe fairytales set us up with unrealistic expectations and at this point, it’s in our blood,” Seonghwa replies.

“Huh?” Hongjoong tilts his head confusedly. “What do you mean by that?”

Hwa shrugs, “I- I just mean that, like… How many fairytales end with the damsel marrying the shoemaker? Or the librarian? I mean, all those stories are about princesses. And in the end, if they’re not already royalty, they marry some high and mighty prince and live happily ever after in a castle and all that. Even Belle from Beauty and the Beast - a character who’s supposed to value intelligence and kindness over all else ends up falling into the same thing. And the Beast’s a total jerk, too.”

“Okay, first of all, how dare you compare Beauty and the Beast - a literal animated masterpiece - to _ this _,” Joong points to the screen. “Secondly…” He pauses, and his voice gets small, “I resent that you’re kinda right.”

Seonghwa smirks, “Ha!”

“Okay, but fairytales are still way better than this! At least they’re linear and, like, progress is made. None of that back and forth weirdness. They do the falling in love bit and ride off into the sunset. Easy. Done.”

“Easy and done, that’s very romantic of you, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa jokes.

“Shut up! You know what I mean. Don’t tell me you think enduring abuse for the sake of marrying rich is romantic.”

“Well this is a bad example, okay! I mean, look at it this way it’s…” Seonghwa tries to think of a way to put it in words. Why do people always go back to stories like these? It’s a classic trope: the resistant one, the Mr. Darcy, hell - the tsundere. It’s agonizing to watch and makes a person want to tear their hair out, yet people keep going back to it. Why? And how to put it in words. “I guess people like the idea of… Overcoming things to come together. I mean even in this crappy show, the girl’s not without her faults, too. I’m guessing in the end they both sort of learn from their crappy mistakes and grow into better people from it. And, like, two people growing together is sorta romantic, you know?”

“People can grow together in a story without see-sawing twenty times and sleeping with half the cast.”

“They can, but it’s not always realistic.”

“Not realistic? Please don’t tell me you sample the entire buffet before settling on a meal.”

Hwa snorts at the metaphor, “That’s- Okay that’s not it! It’s just, like, timing can be a big thing, and people change and things happen. You know, sometimes people love each other but they can’t be together right away.”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately. At first, Seonghwa wonders if the other dozed off. However, when he glances at the other, the redhead isn’t “thinking with his eyes closed”. He’s deep in thought, biting his lip and staring at the ground. Hwa didn’t mean to turn this into some deep conversation, and the sight alarms him a bit. He and Joong still aren’t the closest of friends. The thought of making things weird and souring what they have terrifies him.

Hongjoong finally speaks, returning his gaze to Hwa’s, “I mean, realistically, how many couples can really deal with- with stuff like other relationships and- and different life experiences and stuff? How many people _ actually _get together after a long time apart?”

“I-”

“Like, do you _ personally _know any couples who’ve been through the ringer and back for real?”

“W-Well, no, but…” Seonghwa shrugs. “You’ve gotta believe that at least some can. Gotta have some faith and trust, right? I mean, without that hope the world’s kinda sad, isn’t it? And, shit it’s already depressing enough as it is.”

“Faith, trust…” Hongjoong murmurs to himself. “Damn,” He grins, talking louder again. “You put me to shame with the romance thing.”

Seonghwa’s entire face lights on fire, and he sputters out a response, “I- I what?”

“You’re a big romantic.”

“Wh- Why is it when you say nice things to me, it sounds like an insult?”

“I never said it was a compliment,” The redhead sparks, waggling his eyebrows. Seonghwa tries to play it off, but part of his lovestruck brain is devastated. What if Hongjoong really is making fun of him and he hates romantic stuff? How will Seonghwa romance him then? Never mind that Hwa’s way too chicken to ever actually do it - now even the fantasy is tarnished!

“Wow, rude-!” Seonghwa throws a pencil at Hongjoong.

“Hey- Ow! This is abuse!” Hongjoong throws a highlighter back. 

“Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this! I’ve always wanted a pink highlighter.”

“Buy your own then, you thief!”

“You threw it at me!”

“Because you threw your pencil first!”

“Fine, then let’s call it a trade!”

“I did not agree to this,” Hongjoong scoffs. “Don’t make me get out of this chair!”

“Yeah, and what do you plan on doing, exactly?”

“To be honest, nothing! I genuinely do not wanna get out of this chair,” Hongjoong laughs, stretching languidly. Seonghwa finds himself tracing the line of Hongjoong’s torso from shoulder to waist. Even in a t-shirt, the lines of his muscles pronounce themselves just ever so slightly against the cotton. God, he’s gorgeous.

Vibrating in Seonghwa’s pocket nearly sends the RA hurdling off the bed from surprise. Hwa paws clumsily around his surroundings, wondering where the hell his phone ended up. He wonders who the heck is calling him at this hour. Ready to hang up and send an annoyed text, Hwa picks up his phone. He almost taps the red ignore button, but then he sees the contact. It’s his mother.

“Uh-” Seonghwa chuckles sheepishly. “I gotta take this real fast.”

“Who is it?” Hongjoong’s lips pout as he asks.

“My mother.”

“Oh,” The redhead giggles impishly. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, will do.”

Seonghwa steps into the bathroom and answers, “Hello?”

“Seonghwa,” His mom sighs on the other side of the phone.

Hwa bites his lip nervously, “Mom? Is everything okay?”

“Seonghwa…”

“Mom- Mom what is it? Did something happen with dad? Are you hurt- did you get in an accident-”

“Seonghwa… It has been eleven days since you last called me!”

“What-”

“Eleven days!”

“Is that- Is that why you called so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep because I haven’t heard from my baby in eleven days!” Her shouting is so loud that the sound from the speaker echoes in the bathroom.

“Mom, you know finals are coming up.”

“Do you know how long I held you in my belly, Seonghwa?”

“Mom-”

“Nine months. Nine months! Imagine if I just took an eleven day break-”

“Mom-”

“I don’t need even a long conversation-”

“Mother-”

“I just want to know you’re okay and not dead in a ditch! The other day on the news I saw a segment about a human trafficking ring. You know that human traffickers are everywhere nowadays. They can be anyone.”

Seonghwa groans, “Mom, I am okay. I am not dead in a ditch nor have I been human trafficked.”

“He’s lying!” Hongjoong shouts from the bedroom. “He’s totally been taken!”

“Wh- Who is that?” Hwa’s mom yelps. 

“Ugh- It’s a friend mom, we’re studying together.”

“Studying at this hour?!”

“Yes, mom, it’s finals week! People study late!”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong calls from the bedroom (sounding entirely too amused), “Is it past your bedtime!”

Hwa shoots a dirty look out the door even though he knows Hongjoong can’t see him. It’s the principle of the matter, really. 

“Well, sweetie, you need to sleep. You know that an unhealthy sleep schedule leads to an unhealthy immune system, impaired memory-”

“Yes, mom, I know, and I’m sorry for making you worry-”

“-risk for disease, risk for cancer, increased chance for dietary regulation issues.”

“Okay, mom. I will get seven to eight hours of sleep tonight.”

“No, you won’t!” Hongjoong yells.

“Wh- Who is that?”

“I told you, it’s a friend.”

“It better be just a friend.”

“Mom are you seriou-”

His mom’s voice gets a bit distant for a second, “-no honey! No I am not gonna congratulate him on… That’s inappropriate-! Sorry, your father overheard me talking. Just ignore him. That’s what I do. Which friend is it, then? Is it Wooyoung? Is he still a little flirt?”

“No, um, actually it’s someone I… Met recently.”

“You met recently and you already trust this person in your dorm late at night?”

“Not everyone is a thief, mom!”

“Things go missing all the time at colleges! Keep an eye on your things, okay?”

“Wait- Who’s a thief?” Hongjoong asks. 

Hwa curses the echoey room and ignores Joong, “Hongjoong is not a thief, mother. I’d like to think my judge of character isn’t that bad.”

“Hongjoong?”

“Yes, mother. That- That’s his name.”

“That is my name!” Joong laughs.

The line goes quiet, and Seonghwa wonders if his mom fell asleep on the line or something. She’s certainly not the type to hang up without reason. However, upon checking his phone, the call is still connected. Seonghwa’s brows knit dubiously. It’s not like her to be quiet.

“What was that, honey?” His mom asks.

“Huh- What was what?”

“Your friend, what’s his name?”

“Hongjoong, mother. Kim Hongjoong- please don’t look him up.”

“She won’t find anything!” Hongjoong shouts from his seat in the room. Hwa has half a mind to shout back “I know”, but then he’d expose himself for being an e-stalker.

Hwa’s mom laughs,“No, no that is just a riot!”

“What’s so funny?” Seonghwa asks, more confused than ever.

“I can’t believe after all these years, you go to college and make a friend named Hongjoong!”

“Why… Why is that unbelievable?” Hwa doesn’t know if he wants the answer. Maybe she’s delirious. It’s way past her bedtime.

“What, you don’t find it funny?”

“Find what funny?”

“Your- Your friend. His name is Hongjoong.”

“It’s… Not a very funny name. Mom, did you take too much cold medicine or something?”

“What- No! I- Don’t you remember, honey?”

“Remember what?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember, after all those years of obsessing. It was just nonstop, you would never stop talking about it.”

“About what, mom? What don’t I remember?”

“I don’t know how it’s possible you forgot. He was all you ever talked about back then.”

“Wh- Who?”

“Your imaginary friend, Hongjoong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // elect me the mayor of clowntown
> 
> clown me in technicolor HD on twitter @0KKULTiC


	3. Chapter 3

“Hongjoong, I don’t know if this is safe,” Seonghwa looks over the precipice of the waterfall warily.

“You’re never gonna learn how to fly properly by just jumping off of rocks by the hideout,” Joong says.

“B-but we’re so high, and there’s so many rocks. I feel like I’m gonna go splat…”

“You’ll be fine, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong hops over a few rocks to join Seonghwa’s side. He gives the black-haired boy a gentle half-hug, “Trust me, I’m older than you.”

“Just by a year!” Seonghwa pouts. The difference between ten and eleven is barely even a thing, really.

“Hwa, it’s easy, really. You believe in the power of magic, right?” The redhead asks.

“Well, I’m here, right?”

“Just answer the question, Hwa.”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do, I mean, look at this place!” Seonghwa takes in his surroundings. Even though it’s blustery back home, Neverland is always beautiful and tropical. All kinds of forest life sprouts from the ground. There’s giant trees with leaves bigger than two lost boys put together and flowers tinier than Seonghwa’s thumbnail. They come in all sorts of vivid shades of green and floral tones. The mist at the bottom of the waterfall makes a pretty rainbow stretch across the river it feeds into. Neverland is beautiful and unlike any place Seonghwa has ever seen.

“That’s it, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong urges. “You just gotta believe. Just take a deep breath-” The redhead illustrates his instruction by acting it out, “-close your eyes if you have to and jump. Just think about magic, and imagine yourself lifting up.”

“O-Okay,” Hwa gulps. He peers over the edge of the waterfall again, and his heart jumps into his throat. “Okay, deep breath…” He takes a couple of deep breaths, just to be sure. “Close my eyes… Wait-! Y-You’ll catch me if I fall too fast, right?” 

“Yes, Hwa! Of course I will!”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Seongwha, I promise.”

“Okay, good. Right. Right.”

“Seonghwa-”

“I’m going, I’m going. Alright, again,” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut. “Deep breath… Eyes closed and- and jump!”

Hwa does it. He actually does it. Every bit of logic and common sense he has screams at him to not do that, but he did it anyway! His eyes open, and he yelps as the rocks down below approach quickly. He chokes on his breath as he tries to recover his wits. The free fall makes his tummy do flips, and his limbs flail uselessly.

The last step. He forgot the last step.

Believe.

Seonghwa covers his face with his hands and mutters to himself, “Believe in magic, believe in magic, believe in- in magic!”

Suddenly, Seonghwa’s descent comes to a screeching halt. He gasps and opens his eyes. Checking his surroundings, he’s… He’s floating!

He’s floating all by himself. 

Seonghwa hovers just above the rocks down below. To think, a couple seconds more and he’d be toast! But he’s not! The idea elates him so much, that he floats higher and higher. Quickly, flying transitions from something terrifying to something intuitive. Seonghwa plays around with it. All he has to do is think, believe, and imagine where he’s going. He sends his body up, up, up above the waterfall’s edge, and he beams at Hongjoong.

“See!” Hongjoong laughs happily. “You’re a natural!” The redhead sparkles as he begins to levitate. “Of course, you can’t beat me.”

“Maybe not yet,” Seonghwa laughs, “But we’ll see about that.”

“Oh, respect. I like a guy who doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

“I was gonna say the same about you!” Seonghwa sticks out his tongue and abruptly zooms up into the sky. 

“Wh- Hey! Did you just try and get a head start on me?!” Hongjoong yells after the other.

“I didn’t try,” Hwa laughs. “I did!”

The two boys soar through the sky after one another. Fairy dust glimmers in their wake, leaving trails of sparkling twirls across Neverland’s blue sky. Without a care in the world, the two own the sky that afternoon. It belongs to them alone, and nothing can change that.

* * *

Snow drifts down from the night sky above. The tiny flakes amble down almost lazily, as if they’re procrastinating joining their brethren on the surface below. Seonghwa can hardly blame them. Every time he breathes in, his nostrils freeze, and the crisp air blisters his lungs. Gloomy weather like this is oppressive, and if it wasn’t freezing, he’d probably plop onto the ground, too. Instead, he huddles his down jacket closer, burrowing his face into the high collar of the puffy hood. 

Seonghwa yawns, taking his phone out of his pocket to check the time really fast. Oh, crap, he thinks. His eyes blow wide open when he reads the time: “2:43AM”. Twenty-four hour libraries truly are a double-edged sword. It’s so easy to lose track of time, and hours go by in the far reaches of the library during which Hwa doesn’t see another soul. This is why he opts to study with other people usually. Unfortunately, Hongjoong was unavailable, and Hwa knows his normal squad is way too damn distracting. Hongjoong is distracting, too - just in a different way. At least Hongjoong doesn’t yell obscenities in public or get him thrown out of libraries. Hwa can’t say the same for the others.

Hwa sighs, doubling his pace toward the dorm. Tomorrow’s first class isn’t too early, thank god. All he can think about is bed as he powerwalks through the deserted campus. It’s sort of nice, actually. The snowflakes catch the light as they drift down, and everything is so muted, so quiet. It’s like the blanket of snow on the ground muffles the entire world around it.

For a moment, Seonghwa feels like he’s the only person on campus.

Like he’s the only person in the entire world.

A strong wind gusts, cutting through his layers and breaking his content daze. Seonghwa winces, turtling into his jacket as much as possible. He wonders how much further he has to go as he passes one of the science buildings. His dorm is just beyond the second block of science and engineering buildings. He passes between two of the science labs and emerges in front of where the northside dorms start. There’s the old building that sort of looks like a british boarding school, then the other old one from the eighties that just looks boring. Hwa’s lucky he got into a new-ish building that’d been designed to be eco-friendly and all that. It’s still old, but less old! There’s a few with the eco friendly model on the block, and his is in the middle of them. 

He counts as he passes in front of them. One new building. Two new buildings, and…

Seonghwa’s heart drops, and he freezes. A flash of red peeks out from the top of building number three. Hwa recognizes it immediately, and his legs break out into a run before his brain can even comprehend the sight. No, he tells himself, it can’t be. There’s no way it’s Hongjoong on top of the building. Students don’t have roof access, period. Even if he did, how would he have gotten on top of that building - it’s not even their dorm.

Hwa rushes to the building, just to assure what he’s seeing is real. Unfortunately, it’s no fever dream or sleep deprivation delusion. It’s not even another person. Nope. That is Kim Hongjoong in the flesh, staring down the side of a dorm building. He’s not just by the edge. Seonghwa can see the other’s toes just over the building’s side.

Is this a parkour thing? Seonghwa asks himself. He eyes the gap between the two buildings. No, it can’t be. That would be insane. The gap between buildings is far too large for anyone to clear, and the only things for a person to hold onto would be window ledges. The window ledges hardly qualify as hand or footholds, really. Plus, they’re so spread out, a person would have to be a climbing god to actually make use of them.

Panic seizes Seonghwa’s insides. It squeezes his lungs and presses down heavily on his heart. The RA swallows hard, trying to assess the situation. He glances up at Hongjoong agian. The redhead hasn’t noticed him. How could he with his neck craned like it is? His gaze is fixed above on the silver glow of the moon. It’s beautiful, yes, but that doesn’t explain why Joong is just a stiff breeze away from falling to his death.

Hongjoong moves, and Seonghwa’s heart stops. He’s powerless to act as the other hops off of the edge of the building. 

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa shouts at the top of his lungs. He doesn’t give a shit who’s sleeping. Once again, his feet carry him before his mind fully comprehends what’s going on. “H-Hongjoong!”

The redhead appears to almost move in slow motion as gravity begins to tug his body down. His head turns, and he finally notices Seonghwa. An expression of shock comes over him when their gazes lock.

Then the shadows of the wide alley he jumped into swallow him up.

“Oh fuck- Oh fuck- Fuck- Hongjoong!” Seonghwa cries. Thick, suffocating sobs bubble up in his throat, pushing out of his mouth forcefully as he sprints into the alley. “Shit, shit, please-” Hwa pleads with nobody in particular as he nearly falls flat on his face running. His head whips around frenziedly in search of Hongjoong, all the while despair rakes its agonizing claws down his chest. 

“Please be okay, please,” Hwa cries. He rushes to the spot that Hongjoong had been above, but no dice. “No,” Seonghwa mutters, turning around and checking the alley again and again and again. He looks at where he came from - there’s nobody. Then he checks the other direction - still nobody.

“No, no, no,” Seonghwa murmurs over and over. Where is he? Where is he? All Seonghwa can find is icy asphalt and amber street lights. Dread filling him to the brim, Hwa inspects the side of the neighboring building. He winces, half expecting to see a body plastered on the side, blood gushing down the brick. He’s grateful when all he sees is bare brick. That does little to alleviate his tension overall, though.

“Hongjoong?!” Seonghwa calls out desperately. “Hongjoong? H-Hongjoong?!” A sob tears through his throat. “H-Hongjoong?” Hwa checks the alley for the umpteenth time. It’s dark, even darker the further he goes, but he’s determined. Even if the sight will traumatize him, he can’t leave knowing what Hongjoong did.

In the inky darkness, a silhouette vaguely begins to take shape. Seonghwa gasps and bolts toward the blocky looking thing. The smell tells him right away it’s a dumpster. Hwa wonders if it’s open or not. If Hongjoong managed to land on trash, maybe he survived. Seonghwa hadn’t heard anything, but he tells himself that it’s the most likely possibility. Hwa desperately holds onto that hope as he slowly approaches. He steels himself, clutching his heart, the cold all but forgotten in lieu of what he’d just seen.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa yells, approaching the dumpster. “Hongjoong!”

“S...Seonghwa?” A tiny voice comes from the dumpster. “Wait- It’s you?”

“Holy shit,” Hwa practically drops to his knees from sheer relief. They’re not in the clear yet, though. Joong is definitely gonna need medical attention. Seonghwa’s brows furrow upon seeing the closed lid of the dumpster, and he starts opening it.

“Uh, Seonghwa, I’m over here,” Hongjoong says, his voice tinted with amusement.

“Huh?” Seonghwa grunts dumbly. He blinks confusedly and follows the sound of Joong’s voice. The redhead is not inside the dumpster but he is, in fact, behind the dumpster. Hwa’s jaw drops, and his mind goes blank when he sees Joong. The redhead looks… Fine. He’s fit as a fiddle, crouching behind the dumpster with a slightly confused face.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry, I, um, I didn’t know it was you,” Hongjoong says.

“Wh- B- B- You- How? How did you-?”

“How did I what?”

“You- You- You- You jumped off- off of there-” Seonghwa points shakily to the top of the building. “Off of there- way up- up five stories there, and- and-”

“Wh… What are you talking about?” Hongjong asks sheepishly.

“What am I talking about?”

“You sound crazy. Seonghwa- Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? I- Are you okay? You- That was a five story drop! I- I saw you just- just jump off of there and-”

“I- What?!”

“You- You were there trying to- to parkour or something off of the top of the building!”

“Um, no I wasn’t.”

“I- What?!”

“I- I definitely was not. Doing that.”

“Y-Yes you were. I saw you. You- you were- you saw me.”

“Seonghwa, I was walking.”

Seonghwa feels delirious and dizzy,“What? No, I- How does that explain why you- Why are you behind a dumpster, then?”

“Well,” Hongjoong says flatly, “I was walking home alone, late at night, and then some crazy guy started yelling at me.”

“O-Oh,” The adrenaline drains from Seonghwa’s body, and exhaustion takes its place. Confusion and tiredness make for a head-spinning combination that does nothing to help his also plummetting self-esteem. “Uh…”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong finally stands up and dusts off his knees. “How much sleep have you gotten in the past week?”

“Uh,” That’s a good question, Hwa thinks. Less than a person ought to, in light of recent events.

Hongjoong heaves a sigh and joins Seonghwa by his side, “Let’s walk back together, yeah?”

“Y… Yeah. I- You’re not pranking me, are you?”

“Why would I be pranking you?”

“I just- I swear, I know what I saw are you- are you really being serious?”

“What do you think you saw?”

“You jumped off that building, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says seriously. The two pick up into a slow trawl toward their dorm. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a moment before answering softly, “Seonghwa…”

“It was… It was crazy, like for a second, it looked like you were falling in slow motion. Like you were floa-”

“Seonghwa I’ve got a question!” Hongjoong interjects all of a sudden.

“H-Hm?” Seonghwa’s brows raise confusedly. “Oh, um, sure.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just, um, you- you know it’s- we’re the end of the semester. I mean, we’re close to the end of the semester, and, um I- I like our dorm.”

“You… Like our dorm?”

“Y-Yeah. A lot,” Hongjoong nods as the two emerge from the alley into the street. Under the amber lights, Seonghwa can see the flush on Hongjoong’s cheeks and nose. His heart melts a little at how damn cute he is.

“So what’s your question?” Seonghwa asks curiously. Some of the jitters from before still needle his insides, but most of them have transformed into fluttering butterflies.

“I was, um, wondering if there was any way I can stay.”

“Wait- Stay- what?”

“Stay in the dorms,” Hongjoong says. “Like, I know most people don’t change dorms between semesters, but to be honest, I don’t wanna go back. The dorm I’m in now is quieter, and it’s closer to my classes. My old place was more of a freshmen dorm, so everyone was partying and it’s always a mess. I- I know that’s a lot to do with roommates, but still...”

  
“Well, you can put in a request,” Seonghwa responds. He hadn’t even thought about Hongjoong’s dorming situation. Technically, Hongjoong isn’t a resident of his dorm. Assuming all of the damage to his place is fixed, he would be expected to go back for the spring. He’d already gotten so used to just being across the hall from Hongjoong. The vicinity facilitates a lot of their hangouts. Would they be as close if they werent as close? The thought of growing apart terrifies Seonghwa.

“You’re right, it’s not common, but it’s not unheard of, either. Situations change,” Hwa replies. He’s already searching his memory for dorm switch policies.

“D’you think they’d let me in?” Hongjoong asks. “I mean, my roomies really are barely in. I swear a couple of my suitemates just use the dorm as a closet.”

“Look, it’s not up to me,” Seonghwa frowns. “But, lemme look through my handbook and stuff, see what I can dig up. I might be able to help you along with the process.”

“Really?” Hongjoong beams bouncily. 

“On one condition,” Seonghwa replies with a grin.

“What do you want? A coffee? Snacks?”

“My condition is that… You have to admit that you’ll miss me if you move.”

“I- Wh-What?” Hongjoong guffaws.

“You know it’s true,” Hwa teases with a massive grin. 

“I am not saying that. Nope.”

“Then you can forget about having my help.”

“Ugh- You just want me to boost your ego. Yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”

“You’re not denying it, though.”

“Wh-What?”

“You’re not denying it,” Hwa singsongs with a smirk. “You’re gonna miss me  _ so much _ .”

“N-No.”

“You’re gonna cry yourself to sleep because of how much you miss me.”

“No I’m not. If anyone’s gonna cry, it’ll be you.”

“Huh? Me? I don’t think so.”

“You’re a total crybaby.” 

“What?! No, I’m not,” Seonghwa bumps the other lightly on the shoulder. “You’ve never even seen my cry  _ once _ .”

“Mmm, but I can tell.”

“Can you?”

“Yup. Call it intuition. I can see it in my- my third eye-” He makes a strange, vaguely ninja-esque jutsu gesture, “-your inner crybaby.”

“Okay- On second thought, nevermind. I’m not helping you.”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong gasps. “Oh my god, fine. I’ll miss you. Idiot.”

“Now was that so hard?”

“Yes, yes it was, now come on, let’s get you to bed,” Hongjoong runs behind Seonghwa and starts pushing him roughly. “Before you hallucinate anymore.”

“Wh- Hey- Hey! Oh my god-!” Seonghwa laughs.

The veil of quiet muffles their laughter as they bicker on. For the rest of their walk, they’re the only two in the world. Them and the snowflakes sprinkling down serenely from the sky. As cold as it is outside, Seonghwa has never felt warmer. He relishes in that warmth for as long as he can, basking in it like its the light of a fire.

* * *

Thirty minutes is probably the longest that San and Mingi have ever been quiet in one another’s presence. Seonghwa is astounded when the half hour passes and he realizes none of them has said a word. That occurrence alone illustrates just how dire finals week is. San flips through flash cards while Mingi stares at his computer with a sort of out-there, dead expression. Seonghwa, across from them, grinds away at physics practice questions. Beside him, Hongjoong quietly plugs away at calculus equations. 

Seonghwa had initially been nervous as hell to introduce Hongjoong to his friends. He’d been doing so slowly, in relatively small groups and infrequent occurrences so as to not overwhelm him. Every study group or impromptu anime night feels like a ticking time bomb for indecency. It’s only a matter of time before Yunho starts twerking or San and Mingi start, well, being themselves. By some miracle of good fortune and better friendship, Hongjoong has not been scared off yet. Part of this is due to the unspoken cooperation his friends have engaged in. At this point, Seonghwa has given up on denying that he has a crush, and all of his friends are rooting for him. They almost sorta-kidna try to act not like complete asses around Hongjoong. Whatever conduct isn’t covered by the nonverbal agreement gets quickly shut down by an icy glare from the eldest himself. It’s a sytem that works.

Even more miraculous is how well Joong actually gets along with them. It almost makes Hwa feel jealous. Hongjoong actually seems to get along better with his friends than him. Seonghwa takes it as a good sign that Joong gets along with them at all, and he tries not to die inside when he sees Hongjoong petting San or babying Jongho. Today’s Mingi’s first time meeting Joong, though, and it’s been quiet. Even though part of Seonghwa doesn’t actually want to know Mingi’s opinion, the greater part of him is dying to hear it.

Hwa’s phone is on silent, but he notices the screen light up with a notification.

Speak of the devil.

Seonghwa opens the message, checking on Joong to assure the other can’t see. He reads the message and tries really hard to suppress a groan.

**Mingi** : give him a handie under the table

Hwa eloquently answers:

(You): fuck off.

A stupid giggle across the table tells Hwa that his message has been sent and recieved. He quickly gets one back:

**Mingi** : ill cover for you promise

Seonghwa taps an answer back:

(You): shouldn’t you be studying??

The message following comes just seconds later.

**Mingi** : shouldn’t you be dating him by now??

(You): the fucking irony of you pressuring me for time

**Mingi** : idk what ur talking about

(You): denial isn’t just a river, mingi

**Mingi** : actually it is The Nile 🤡

(You): 🙄

**Mingi** : srs tho, whats the hold up

**Mingi** : the semester is basically over dude

(You): yeah exactly

(You): whats the point? Its finals now, then we’re going on break

(You): were not SUPER close. Idk he prob wouldnt wanna hang out over break or anyth we dont live close

**Mingi** : so?

**Mingi** : sext 😫🍆💦💦

(You): ….

Seonghwa shoots Mingi a dirty look, in response to which, Mingi sticks his tongue out. Hwa rolls his eyes and gets ready to stash his phone when another notification pops up on his phone. It reads: “You have been added to a group chat with  **Mingi ** and  **Sannie** ☀️”. Hwa bites down a curse and shoots both of them a dirty look. Before he can try and leave, he gets barraged with notifications.

**Sannie** ☀️: whats this about you being a pendejo

**Mingi** : a what

**Sannie** ☀️: pendejo. Friend in class taught me the word, its a swear 🌚

**Mingi** : what does it mean 

**Sannie** ☀️: chickenshit, coward, fucktwat

(You): die

The second he dares acknowledge them, he gets the “ **Sannie☀️** and  **Mingi ** are typing…” message. Oh brother.

**Sannie** ☀️: why dont u just ask him out already?

(You): i WAS explaining to mingi that the timing is all sorts of shit

(You): who wants to date during finals??   
(You): then its break and like. What if it fades w/ distance? Idk i dont want it to get weird

**Sannie** ☀️: that is pendejo behavior

**Mingi** : same

(You): well thank you for establishing that i am, apparently, a coward

(You): anything else?

**Sannie** ☀️: dude just ask him out fr

(You): no. what makes u think he’ll say yes?

(You): i like being friends w him u kno

**Mingi** : if nothing else youre hot

(You): thank you mingi

**Sannie** ☀️: because if u dont ask him out ill blackmail u

(You): LUL

(You): you WHAT

**Sannie** ☀️: bro do u not remember what u told me the other day

  
(You): ??

**Mingi** : ??

**Sannie** ☀️: remember we were drinking at YeoWoo’s??

  
(You): doesnt ring a bell

**Sannie** ☀️: fine lemme lay this shit out for u

**Sannie** ☀️: u dont ask him out

**Sannie** ☀️: ima tell him the truth

(You): that i am… into him??

**Sannie** ☀️: that the real reason ur attracted to him

**Sannie** ☀️: is bc he reminds u of ur gay awakening imaginary friend

Seonghwa chokes when he reads that, and San makes a tiny squeaking sound. The eldest glares angrily at the other. He wouldn’t  _ dare _ . Would he? The devil himself covers his face in an attempt to suppress his squeaky cackling. Meanwhile, Hongjoong sits peacefully just beside Seonghwa, none the wiser.

**Mingi** : so its true :O

(You): no

**Sannie** ☀️: ur face says it all :)

(You): die

**Mingi** : wait i didnt hear this full story whats up???

(You): its nothing

**Sannie** ☀️ is typing...

(You): there is no story

**Sannie** ☀️ is typing…

(You): the story is that if this were the late 1800s i would challenge u to a duel right now

(You): and whoop ur ass

**Mingi** : oooo im so scared 😫

**Sannie** ☀️: SO :) we were drinking at YeoWoo’s and idk we got to playing a sort of truth or dare thing - i think u were like passed out at this point tbh mingi - anyways. Obv we ask hwa to spill abt his massive crush on joongie uwu and while tight lipped normal hwa is too cool for school, our good friend DRUNKhwa was ALL BOUT THAT

**Sannie** ☀️: after like 11323 soliloquys abt the guy, hwa talked abt how he hung w joong one day n his mum called n said he had an i m a g i n a r y friend named hongjoong. Liek ok whatev. Its. a thing but THEN IT gets weirder

**Sannie** ☀️: Seonghwa presses his mum and basically hwa had an imaginary friend as a kid who - get this - was named hongjoong, was a sparkley fairy and had red hair

**Sannie** ☀️: i shit you not, hwas words not mine

**Mingi** : oh my god

**Mingi** : oh my GOD

**Mingi** : HAHAHHHSAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAH

**Sannie** ☀️: she mustve known right then that her son was a v special boy

**Mingi** : HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH

**Sannie** ☀️: literally a flying sparkling fairy boy

**Sannie** ☀️: sigmund freud is climaxing in his grave as we speak

**Mingi** : HAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

**Sannie** ☀️: in conclusion seonghwa is lusting after his gay awakening imaginary friend

**Sannie** ☀️: and i cant blame him like the dude rly is here in the flesh

**Sannie** ☀️: looking like that

**Mingi** : life is not fair

**Mingi** : hwa did u cast a spell or something

(You): i hate u both

**Mingi** : im srs its not fkn fair

**Mingi** : hwas wet dream gay awakening fairy man is in the flesh n wants to fuck him

**Mingi** : like where the fuck is sailor jupiter to give me the strap??

**Mingi** : bitch

**Sannie** ☀️: hol up

**Sannie** ☀️: all the anime chars in the world and u pick sailor jupiter?

**Sannie** ☀️: the lesbian icon??????

**Mingi** : power and confidence 😫😫

**Sannie** ☀️: hello bottom police??? 

**Sannie** ☀️: song mingi is on the loose again

(You): when I die then you will know

Seonghwa can feel his face burning, and when he looks up at the other two, they’re hunched over, scarcely containing their laughter. The two exchange a look and start laughing more. Whatever drug they’re on, Hwa wishes he had some. 

“We’re gonna get snacks,” Mingi says shakily, barely holding back giggling.

“Yeah we’ll- we’ll be right back,” San adds with a snicker. The two slink off shakily and make it two steps before cracking up. 

Hongjoong finally notices their buffoonery and raises his brows, “What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” Seonghwa answers, cheeks burning.

His phone vibrates, and a new message from San pops up:

**Sannie** ☀️: nows ur chance !!

Seongwha slamps his phone onto the table screen-side down, “Nothing.” He repeats.

“Weirdos,” Hongjoong says with a laugh and a shrug. He returns his attention to his math, and Seongwha ends up getting sucked into the other again. Hongjoong truly is stunning. He has the most perfect, beautifully sloping button nose that Hwa has ever seen, and his lips always look heavenly. Sometimes, during his low points in self-control, Seonghwa just watches the other’s mouth. It’s depraved, he knows, but how can he help it? His mouth is just sheer perfection - the plush lips, the perpetual pinky tone, the way they curve perfectly and reveal flawless teeth when he smiles. Even in the shitty lighting of the library, his skin glows. Highlighter. He remembers from the first time they met, Joong wears highlighter. Is it that?

“Hey, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says.

Joong raises his brows and takes his attention off of his notebook, “Hm?”

“You look nice today. Like, all glowwy.”

“O-Oh, thanks,” Hongjoong flushes immediately, and Seonghwa hopes it’s a good thing. “Yeah, I- I just do, um, BB cream and a little highlight. That way people can’t see I’m dying inside.”

“Well, it works,” Seonghwa replies. “What’s that stuff you put on your cheeks again?”

“Highight?”

“No, like, what’s it called? The brand?”

“O-Oh, um, it’s sort of a, uh, small apothecary brand. Like, um, indie. You probably wouldn’t find it anywhere…”

“I didn’t mean to, like, get it. I just remember it had a fun name. And it was pretty I actually grabbed it out of the basket when I saw.”

“Oh, well, uh- it’s called fairy dust.”

Seonghwa nods. That’s it. Fairy dust. 

  
Something passes through Seonghwa’s mind. It’s like a spark of recognition, an inkling of knowledge, a memory. However, that something passes like a bullet train through the station. It’s nothing but a blur, leaving only a gust of air in its wake. Before he can even make a move to board, the train is already gone.

“It suits you,” Seonghwa says. “It’s, like, really natural but still boosts your look.”

“Uh- Do you want something?” Hongjoong replies, sweeping a hand through his hair sheepishly. Is he flustered? Or maybe it’s just all the reading frying Seonghwa’s retinas.

“What- Why do you think that?”

“Just- Complimenting me out of nowhere.”

Seonghwa gives the other a coy grin, “Nah. Just felt like it.” With that, he goes back to his homework, pretending he’s not totally sideying the other for a reaction. He always feels like he’s on the back foot with Hongjoong in terms of moving stuff along. That’s not to say he really expects anything at all. He sticks by his gut feeling: the timing is off. Maybe, just maybe, if he’s lucky, he can keep contact over break. Then he might think about it.

But still, it feels nice to see the other one blushing for a change.

* * *

Seonghwa huddles himself as he drifts through the frigid night air. Even with his extra fluffy socks and flannel pajamas on, he’s shivering like crazy. Hwa guesses he can’t expect anything less. After all, it’s Christmas. Well, the last few hours of it, anyway. Seonghwa loves Christmas as much as any kid. There’s presents, family, tons of fun movies and yummy snacks. His dad always cooks a big breakfast, and mom lets him eat sweets all day, even before dinner. He gets tons of time off school after, too. So, basically, it’s the best holiday. Period.

But this one ran sorta long. Seonghwa loves his family a whole lot, but the adults sure do love gabbing. They talk about grown up stuff like the president and the boring dramas they watch. On Christmas, it seems like “goodbye” really means “we’re gonna start sorta leaving and maybe we’ll be gone in an hour”. It felt like it took forever for Hwa to tear away from his family.

After pretending to sleep for awhile, Hwa finally stole away with a bag of goodies. He feels like Santa Claus flying through the air with a sack of presents. His heart dances with excitement. He’s a bit sad he couldn’t be there during the day to celebrate with the lost boys, but he knows they’ll understand. He helped decorate the hideout at least. The group of them strung up lanterns and wrapped lights around some of the palm trees. They nailed stockings above their bed coves and put garland and bows on everything they possibly could. Seonghwa’s super eager to see the entire camp lit up on Christmas night. It’ll be magical, no doubt.

The ice cold air gradually warms up as Seonghwa nears Neverland. Hwa can see the shore, a dot in the ocean in the distance. The crescent moon’s light shines down brilliantly on the little slice of paradise. By the time Hwa is close to the hideout, he already feels sticky from the hot air. That’s the one downside of tropical jungles, no pretty snow, no hot cocoa, no sledding or skiing, either.

Seonghwa lands in the camp and is surprised to see it empty. He supposes it is past bedtime, but he thought the lost boys would make an exception. The fire still crackles gently in the center of the camp. Hwa doesn’t know if he’s ever seen it put out. All of the lights are strung around and between the trees making a pretty circle of colorful light.

“Guys?” Seonghwa calls out.

No response. Hwa shrugs and skips into the den quietly. If they’re asleep already, then he’ll just deliver the presents and leave - truly like Santa Claus! Seonghwa tiptoes in, hoping not to disturb anyone. A couple of lanterns keep the underground base from being totally dark. 

“Hello?” Hwa whispers.

Still no response. 

He starts stuffing stockings with their respective gifts. Some extra cookies he’d swiped from home, candy canes, and gacha toys he’d won over the past few months. By the fourth stocking, Seonghwa finally notices that the bed cove is empty. Hwa pauses for a second. He checks the ones he’d visited. They’re empty, too. As he keeps going, he makes note. Empty, empty - all of the bed coves are empty.

Had the lost boys gone somewhere?

Or worse, could they be in trouble?

Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate. He’s only got one gift left, anyways, and that can wait. The black-haired boy runs out of the den and leaps up. He flies high above and swiftly surveys the canopy.

“Guys?” Seonghwa calls out to the quiet forest below. “Guys?” He calls again. Flying higher and higher, Hwa expands his search perimeter. However, it gleans nothing. He doesn’t even see a pirate ship anchored off shore. When he flies by the mermaid’s gorge, the malevolent creatures are completely mum. 

“G-Guys?” There’s no way that Seonghwa is truly alone - right? He starts getting anxious as he retraces his flight closer to ground level. Still nothing. The birds are all asleep, and the chattering crickets are no help, either. When he asks the lemurs, they just shrug, and the monkeys just throw things at him.

Dejected and ready to give up, Hwa slowly drifts up the face of the highest peak Neverland has. 

Hwa floats above the canopy and begins his last ditch attempt. He gasps because, finally, he sees a person! A silhouette darkens the glowing moon. Seonghwa recognizes the highlighted red in a flash. He zooms toward the peak to join the leader of the lost boys.

A big smile on his face, Seonghwa greets the other, “Hongjoong!” He gently perches himself next to the other on the rocky peak. Looking out, Seonghwa can see why Joong settled up there. The view is stellar - literally. There are stars everywhere the eye can see, it’s like they cover the sky in a blanket, and everything below looks so tiny. The trees just look like broccoli, and the sand nothing more than a tiny sliver of dirt.

“Wh- What are you doing here?!” The leader gapes.

“I’m here to celebrate Christmas, duh!” Hwa beams.

Hongjoong coughs out sheepishly, “Shouldn’t you be with your family right now?”

“I am,” Seonghwa answers confidently. Hongjoong gives him a look, and the black-haired boy elaborates, “I spent the day with my family, but… You’re my family, too.”

Hongjoong doesn’t say anything to that. He just sort of squeezes his fists in his lap. 

“Merry Christmas!” Seonghwa continues, waving the bag in front of Joong’s face. “Here, I brought you some… Cookies- homemade, oh- I left the candy canes at the base, um… I have the thermos with hot cocoa… Oh, and this-” Hwa delicately removes Hongjoong’s present from his bag. “- this is, um, for you.” His heart patters loudly as he gauges the other’s reaction.

“I- I um made it, but if you don’t like the colors, I can make you another one,” Seonghwa says nervously. He holds up the hand-made friendship bracelet - a simple chevron of red, navy, and white. He thought the colors suited Joong. 

“You made this yourself?” Hongjoong asks, awed.

“U-Uh, yeah.”

“Can you put it on me?” Hongjoong extends his wrist.

“Sure!” Seonghwa responds with a smile. 

“This is awesome. The colors look perfect with my hair, right?” Hongjoong beams, holding his wrist up to his hair to compare. He looks so happy, it makes Seonghwa happy, too. He understands why adults talk about how Christmas is about giving. When he sees Joong all giddy and glowing, it makes Seonghwa wish he could give the boy a present every day just so he can see that smile.

“I’m glad you like it!”

“I love it! I’m never taking it off.”

“Well, good, because I double knotted that,” Hwa laughs. 

Hongjoong laughs, too, but his smile falters, “I- I’m sorry. I… I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa shrugs. 

“I like your pajamas, by the way,” Hongjoong adds. “Very festive.”

“Oh, gosh, thanks,” Hwa looks down at the plaid flannel. His mom buys him a new set every year that he can’t wear until Christmas night. The fuzzy socks have penguins on them. Not his coolest getup, but it is comfy. Hongjoong, on the other hand, is much more suited to the tropical weather in his regular attire of a tee shirt and shorts. He wonders where Joong keeps all of his clothes - Hwa’s never noticed a closet in the hideout before. Maybe there’s a hidden apartment, or it’s fairy magic. Thinking of the den makes another question come up in Hwa’s head.

“Hey Joong,” Seonghwa asks. “Where are the other lost boys?”

Hongjoong doesn’t look away from the moon when he answers, “With their families.”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide. The lost boys always sleep in the den, and they’re always there when Hwa gets there - even if it’s first thing in the morning. Nobody has ever talked about their family except for Seonghwa himself. He just assumed that they all lived there with Hongjoong, that they were all native to Neverland.

  
Aren’t they?

Has Hongjoong been alone this entire time?

On Christmas? That thought is so sad to Seonghwa, he doesn’t know what to do. He hugs Hongjoong out of impulse, squeezing him tight because, well, what else is there to do? Yeah, it’s sorta lame and sappy, but it’s different than being at school. Seonghwa doesn’t have to put up any fronts around Hongjoong. He can be as weird and affectionate as he wants.

“Huh?” Hongjoong grunts.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve come sooner if I knew you’d be alone!”

“H-Hey, don’t feel bad for me or anything like that!” Hongjoong wrestles an arm free and flicks Seonghwa on the forehead.

“Ow! Hey!” Hwa flicks him back. “What was that for anyway!”

“You were getting to soft on me,” Joong says.

“Wow, Hongjoong, where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“Who cares what day of the year it is. Christmas is cool, but it’s not the end of the world if you spend it alone. In the end, it’s just another day like the rest of ‘em.”

Seonghwa frowns, “But holidays are supposed to be spent with people you care about. That’s what makes them awesome- Well, that and the time off from school.”

“Psh,” Hongjoong huffs. “I’d rather spend Christmas alone than be surrounded by a bunch of grown-ups squeezing my cheeks and making me pose for pictures.”

Hwa tilts his head curiously. The truth is, he’s never asked about Hongjoong’s parents or family or anything. From day one, he’d alway assumed that Hongjoong was a product of Neverland, some combination of fairy dust and humanity mashed up into one magical boy. But… The way he talks about Christmas, it’s almost like he knows something about it.

“Have you- have you celebrated Christmas before?” Seonghwa asks.

“What? I mean- not really. I’ve just heard, you know.”

“Right, that makes sense,” The black-haired boy nods. “Would you ever… Want to celebrate a holiday?”

“What do you mean? We decorated the hideout like mad men. That’s pretty celebratory to me.”

“No, I mean, like, with people?”

Hongjoong tenses, “I have my people. We just don’t celebrate on the day of.” He shrugs.

“Hongjoong, I mean- I’m inviting you to come over some time.”

“What?” The redhead gasps in surprise.

“Yeah. You should come over for New Years or something. My family lets me stay up super late and we get to eat so much yummy food-”

“No!” Hongjoong practically barks. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so, uh, loud.”

“That’s fine,” Hwa replies in a small voice. “I get it. You- You like it here.”

Joong turns away slightly, and his voice sounds different when he responds, shaky, “I belong here, Seonghwa.”

“W-Well, if I can visit here, and you can visit there, I don’t see why- why you can’t maybe belong a little bit to both.”

“This is my home, okay? I have everything I need here. I don’t need any grown-ups or presents or big family, so- so don’t worry about me,” Joong’s voice sounds even thicker.

“Hongjoong-”

“Just have lots of fun and eat lots of food for me, okay?”

“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa wants to reach out and hug the other again, but something stops him. He shrinks back and nods, “I will. But, I mean, since I’m here, how about we celebrate a bit now?”

Hongjoong sniffles loudly, obviously trying to suppress crying, and nods. Seonghwa does him the courtesy of pretending he doesn’t notice.

“Hey,” The black-haired boy makes an effert to sound upbeat. “I know it’s hot, but… Have you ever had hot cocoa made with real milk and imported chocolate?”

That rouses the other’s attention, and he turns, nose ruddy and eyes puffy, “I-Imported chocolate?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa grins, withdrawing his thermos from his bag. “It’s from, like, South America or something. It comes in like a big bar- I almost stole the entire bar so I could eat it, but mom said it’d be bitter. But with milk, it’s really good and-” He takes out the baggie of cookies he’d swiped, “-it’s literally perfect with sugar cookies.”

“That sounds awesome.”

“It is- We just gotta be careful with the thermos…” Seonghwa cautiously removes the thermos cup and pours some steaming hot chocolate into the plastic mug. He opts to drink out of the thermos itself. 

“Oh gosh- It’s so hot,” Hongjoong laughs.

  
“Yeah, uh, you usually don’t drink outside in tropical weather, I don’t think.”

“Probably not.”

“It’s more of a nice, snow day drink. But, uh, I imagine that Neverland doesn’t get a lot of snow.”

“No snow in Neverland?” Hongjoong lets out a soft chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

As if on cue, a cool breeze rolls through Neverland. Seonghwa’s mouth drops open into a big “o” as he watches the sky darken right before his eyes. Shadowy clouds drift into view, swirling around the moon until its silver light is all that’s left in the sky. For a second, nothing happens. Everything feels quieter. Like the world itself is getting ready to go to bed.

Tiny specks catch the moonlight. At first, Seonghwa is confused. It couldn’t be. There’s no way that it’s...

“No way,” Seonghwa gasps quietly. Delicate snowflaks fall peacefully from the sky, completely unbothered by Neverland’s warm temperature. Even with the cooling breeze, it’s still comfortable for Hwa - which means it’s way too hot for snow. But… It’s falling anyway.

“I told you,” Hongjoong smiles. “Neverland is full of surprises.”

“This is crazy!” The black-haired boy laughs. He sticks out a finger and watches a beautiful little snowflake land on his finger. Of course, the tiny ice structure melts almost immediately. Seonghwa sticks his tongue out and tries to catch one, and Hongjoong decides he wants to do it, too. 

Their Christmas night turns into a snowflake eating contest under the moonlight. Seonghwa can’t think of a way he’d rather spend the last hours of Christmas. He’s overjoyed for the most part, except, toward the end of the night, his good mood starts to fade. Hongjoong animatedly tells a story about something, and out of nowhere reality just sort of hits Seonghwa.

He’s twelve years old now.

This is the first time he’s ever thought to spend Christmas with Hongjoong like this, and it very well could be the last.

* * *

“Seonghwa, come down in your pajamas! I wanna take a picture!”

Seonghwa sighs. Every year - she does this  _ every year _ . He thought that maybe after high school she’d stop. Then, he thought maybe graduating high school would be the milestone, the last time he’d have to deal with his mom’s Christmas tradition. Alas, here he is, third year of college, wearing a matching set of pajamas end getting summons for the annual family picture. At least mom’s taste has adjusted accordingly, he notes. She’s swapped out the loud patterns for more subdued, sophisticated sets. Seonghwa begrudgingly admits she hit the nail on the head with the elegant navy and white set she’d gotten him.

“Hwa- Get the teddy bear!” His mom calls up into his room. Her voice seriously carries, and Seonghwa muses that she probaby could’ve done opera if she’d set herself to it.

“I’m looking for it!” He shouts back. The teddy bear in question is a stuffed toy he’s had since before he could even walk. Their first ever Christmas photo with him has the bear, therefore every other picture has to have the bear. Seonghwa groans. It’s somewhere in his closet.

“Can’t we take this picture after breakfast,” Hwa grumbles to himself as he rifles through the storage bins sitting on the closet floor. When none of those yield results, he goes high, muttering to himself, “Where is that damn bear…” He swears he put it in one of the plastic bins last year. Unfortunately, they’re not see-through nor are they labelled.

“Should’ve fucking put a sticker on it or something,” Seonghwa mutters to himself.

“Seonghwa-!”

“I know, mom! Ten minutes! Give me ten minutes!” He calls back down. He silently prays that dad spikes the orange juice again.

“Fine, but if you’re not down in ten we’re taking it without you!” His mama shouts. It’s a total lie, they’ve never taken the picture without him, and they’re not gonna start now. Of course, Seonghwa doesn’t care enough to call her on the bluff. It’s not like he’s trying to take long.

“Okay, maybe it’s- is it- This one…?” Seonghwa murmurs, pulling at a bin on the high shelf. It’s just high enough to make grabbing it slightly perilous. He’s certain whatever’s in it isn’t gonna crush him to death should he drop bit, but he wants to avoid it anyway. “Come here,” He beckons the bin, like it’ll listen. “Come… Here…” The tips of his fingers just barely brush the grab handle, and he gets on his tippy toes to secure it.

“That’s right, now come… On… Dow- Fuck!” Some way, somehow, the entire bin just teeters off of the shelf completely. The lid, apparently not properly secured, slides off, and the entire contents of the bin pour out.

“Fuck- Fuck!” Seonghwa curses as a barrage of random shit comes crashing down on him. “Jesus christ. Fuck.” Hwa coughs a bit - the result of all the dust his old stuff had kicked up. Heaving a sigh, he inspects the pile of junk that’d fallen at his feet. It looks like he’d manage to upend a bin of old books.

“Huh,” Seonghwa grunts. He kneels down, fanning out the pile a bit. His irritation curbs slightly when he reads the old titles. There’s yellowed volumes of manga he used to read and old fantasy serieses that were the shit back in elementary school. He picks up one book, a well-worn anthology of fairytales, and rifles through it. A grin crosses his lips as he skims the familiar stories - Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Hansel and Gretel…

Hwa puts the book down, determined not to get distracted. He fans out the pile even more, and a familiar biege plush sticks out from the wreckage.

“Ah-ha,” Seonghwa says with a smile, “There you are.” Just as he reaches out to rescue the teddy, another book catches his eye. This one’s different from all the other’s. It’s not a neatly bound published piece but a worn journal. Seonghwa’s brows furrow as he delicately picks up spiral notebook covered in stickers. In thick, shaky marker, the front reads: “ADVENTURE JOURNAL”. 

Hwa smiles fondly, just vaguely remembering those times as a child when he’d treat any walk outside as an adventure. Bugs were fearsome beasts and stray cats his familiars. It was a simpler time, then. He can’t help wondering what kind of stuff ran through his mind during those days, and he opens to a page to see.

“Dear journal,” Seonghwa reads aloud with a laugh, “Today I saw an orange cat on the street. She was very fat, I think she was-” He snorts, “-I think she was pregnant. I hope she has a beautiful, healthy litter. I’ve decided to call her Tabatha - I think that’s- that’s a good cat name… I tried to feed her, but she wouldn’t- wouldn’t take the- oh my god- take the yogurt. I left it so hopefully Tabatha and her litter eat well- why did I even keep a journal?” He laughs.

Humored, Seonghwa flips to another page, “Dear journal, today I- oh- oh my god- today I… Got a love not - oh, I meant  _ note  _ \- from a girl- holy shit. I can tell it’s a love note because there’s a lot of heart stickers on it, and she seemed all giggly when she handed it to me. But I don’t love her back so - oh my god this is brutal - I’m just gonna  _ give it back _ to her tomorrow and  _ not open it _ . I hope she gets the idea then- holy shit. I was a savage.”

“Let’s see, next page… Dear journal. Mom took me to church today which I hate, it’s so boring, and I can’t even daydream. Why do we have to stand up and sit down all the time? The songs - oh my - the songs all suck, too. One thing I wonder is if Jesus is a ghost, and he is always watching us, does that mean he is-” Seonghwa snorts again, “-he is haunting us? That sounds kind of creepy. I don’t want some old ghost guy watching me in the bathroom. It’s not okay for strangers to see you naked - so why is god an exception? Because he’s a ghost? That doesn’t make sense - what? What?”

Hwa flips to another entry a bit later. He notices that this one actually has a date, and judging by the handwriting, he’s at least a year older than the beginning of the journal.

“Dear journal, I know it’s been awhile, but I had to write. Today I had the most amazing adventure of my entire life- aww, I’m so cute. What was it?” Seonghwa eagerly reads on, “I woke up at night and a mysterious shadow was running all around my room. Hm. It was so scary at first, but then I realized it seemed sort of lost. I caught the shadow with my foot, and then something even crazier happened… A boy came in through the window- what?” Seonghwa’s face scrunches with confusion. He wonders if he’d just gotten bored as a kid and started writing down fairytales. Honestly, that part of his childhood is sort of a blur. It’s not completely out of the question that he glossed over it entirely because it was so unremarkable.

Seonghwa reads on, “A boy came in through the window. He flew with the power of…”

He takes pause, putting the journal down for a second. A strange sensation twists in his chest, but he can’t place it. It’s sort of a perpetual itch - not a good one, that’s for certain. However, it doesn’t necessarily feel like something malicious or terrible, either. It’s sort of like something is bothering him. It’s like looking at hanging picture and realizing that it’s just slightly askew. At first, it’s sort of easy to miss, but then it becomes persistant and impossible to ignore.

“He flew with the power of fairy dust,” Seonghwa reads out again. “The boy had a fairy named Maddox, and with a few sprinkles of Maddox’s magical fairy dust, he could fly through the sky. I helped the boy- I helped him what? Reattach his shadow?” The sandy blond squints at his own writing. What a strange story. Even though it’s ridiculous, and reading it is sort of a waste of time, he can’t stop. Not halfway though! 

Seonghwa chugs on, “The boy was so grateful that he invited me to fly through the sky with him. The fairy Maddox, though sort of sassy, agreed and the boy sprinkled fairy dust all over me. He showed me the way to his home, a magical place called Neverland- hm. Not a very good name,” He comments under his breath. “He told me the directions of Neverland, and it’s pretty easy, but just in case I forget, all I have to remember is- is… Huh.”

Seonghwa eyes the very conspicuously written bit. Apparently, his child self had opted to write it in thick marker and highlight it, then draw a bunch of lines under it - just for emphasis. The tickling botheration scratching at his chest grows more intense as he reads the passage further.

“All I have to remember is  _ the second star to the right _ is the light that will lead me there.” Now, why does that sound familiar? Seonghwa turns the page - this one was a two-pager, apparently. “At first flying was the scariest thing ever. Seriously. People are not meant to fly, but he made it look so easy. He let me hold onto his hand and guided me all the way to Neverland. I got to meet his gang, the- the lost boys-”

A bell rings in Seonghwa’s head. Another flash of familiarity. He’s heard that somewhere before. Or heard something like it. He knows he has. Unable to pin it, Hwa ignores the gnawing sensation and moves along.

“We almost immediately got into it with the pirates that run rampant across Neverland, but we showed them whose boss- Heh. I’m sure we did,” Seonghwa lets out a wry chuckle. “The leader was nice enough to fly me home, and I got tucked back into bed before mom noticed I was gone! Oh, an exclamation point! The leader of the lost boys said that I can come back tomorrow, too. He said I can hang out with them any day of the week, all day if I want to. They even have a secret hideout where I can sleep over. For now, I’m gonna keep it on the down low, though. I think mom would freak out if she knew I flew to a far off land and fought pirates- yup, no shit. The leader is really cool and nice I like him alot- ha, alot, like one word. Don’t think I got over that hump until high school,” Seonghwa laughs. “I like him a lot. He’s got a fairy friend, but I think what’s coolest is his- oh, one more page.” 

“The coolest is his-” Seonghwa flips the page without any thought, reading along, “his bright red hai…”

Seonghwa’s blood freezes. He blinks rapidly and even wipes his eyes to make sure they’re not decieving him. His throat constricts. Suddenly, the air in the room is suffocating. 

“His bright. Red. Hair,” The words fall out of Seonghwa’s mouth as his eyes dart across the page. “His name is Hongjoong, and I thought he looked cool so I drew a picture of him.”

The picture is by no means a beautiful artistic rendition. However, the elements are there. It accomplishes the basic task of conveying a certain set of features. There’s the tiny yellow circle signifying the fairy. The shaky doodle of the boy looks neither particularly tall nor stout. He’s got earrings. A few faint freckles and birth marks here and there, a tank top and shorts and, of course, bright red hair. Young Seonghwa even drew little sparkle specks around him to signify fairy dust.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa breathes out. He can’t really comprehend what he’s feeling right now. It’s some sort of sickening mix of anxiety and devastation, outlined with botheration and confusion. What is this? What  _ is  _ this?

“What the fuck?” Seonghwa murmurs. “What the fuck? What the  _ fuck _ ?” He throws the journal down like it’s poison, shooting up to his feet impulsively. He can’t even bear to touch the thing, kicking a few books over to cover the damn thing up. What the fuck? What  _ the fuck _ ? He feels like he’s just looked at something he shouldn’t have, like he’s just learned some horrible, forbidden knowledge that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Seonghwa!” His mom’s thundering voice pentrates the weird veil that’d cast itself over Hwa without him knowing. He snaps out of the weird funk and returns to reality. “Seongwha you better not have lost the bear!”

“N-No, mom!” He shouts back. Now he’s panicked for a different reason. “I’m- I’m coming I just found it!” He grabs the teddy bear and brushes the dust off of it. Before leaving his room and joining the mandatory Christmas fun, Hwa takes a couple more minutes just to decompress.

  
He takes a few breaths, letting the truth truly sink in.

“Holy fuck,” He whispers to himself, shaking his head. “Holy fuck, you really  _ are  _ lusting after your gay awakening imaginary friend.”

He assures himself that it does nothing to invalidate his feelings for Hongjoong, and that’s the end of that. Seonghwa rushes down the stairs, happy for a distraction. However, there is one incredibly massive issue with celebrating Christmas:

One of the primary colors signifying the holiday is red.

And every time Seonghwa sees red, he can’t stop himself from thinking of a certain someone.

* * *

Spring semester move-in is far less exciting than fall move-in. The freshmen no longer have the same eager glow in their eyes, and the sun hides behind layers of dreary gray clouds. Everything is cold, slippery, wet and cast beneath an oppressive, monotone filter. In spite of that, life has to go on. People need to get moved back in, and that falls under Seonghwa’s job description. The silver lining is that most of the core stuff stays in the dorms which makes the process easier. Few people need whole carts to move things. It’s more about the coordination of drop-offs and directing traffic in and out of the building.

The constant opening of doors assures that Seonghwa never quite reaches a comfortable temperature. He counts down the minutes until he can leave his post and cuddle under a blanket. However, he didn’t volunteer to direct check-in traffic without reason. Every time someone comes through the doors, Seonghwa’s head whips around. He desperately searches for a familiar flash of strawberry red hair or the color of his favorite beanie. So far, Seonghwa has had no such luck. He did help Hongjoong with the moving request as he promised, but that’s no guarantee. Obviously, people who’d lived there prior have precedence. 

Seonghwa bites his lip nervously watching people go by. Though he tries his damndest to be professional, his mind constantly wanders.

“Seonghwa,” Another RA, the one from the floor down, taps him on the shoulder.

“Huh?” Hwa turns around, mouth ajar dumbly. 

“You’re done,” She points to the clock in the lobby. The hands already read past two o’ clock.

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, sounding more disappointed than he wanted to. “Are you sure you don’t need any help? A lot of people are coming in later.”

The RA shakes her head, “Nah. You know how strict they are with hours for stuff like this.”

“Right. Yeah, okay, um, cool.”

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, dude.”

“Yeah, you too,” Seonghwa greets amicably. He drags his feet all the way up the stairs and continues doing so until he reaches his door. Sulkily, he paws around the pockets of his jacket for a key. Then a force crashes into him without warning, knocking him into the wood of his dorm door. “Oww! Oh my god-” Seonghwa pivots on his heel angrily. “What the fu- oh. My god.” His rage dissipates in an instance.

“Holy shit,” Hongjoong lets out a snort. “I- I’m so sorry, I- I genuinely did not think I would- you would do that.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine, it’s okay,” Seonghwa tries to play it off like he wasn’t about to blindly deck Joong in the face. “H-Hi, hey, what are you, um, what are you doing here?”

Hongjoong giddily flashes a paper, bouncing like a schoolboy who’s had too much sugar. Hwa squints as he skims it. 

“Wait- You got in?”

“Mhm!” The redhead nods. “Sorry, I was, like, I got over excited and I tried to hug you and I sorta, um- tackled you, yeah sorry about that.”

“Jesus, you scared me, too,” Hwa shoves him lightly on the shoulder. “Y’know if geomatics doesn’t work out you could always take up rugby. That was… Damn.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“How much caffeine have you had, you’re, like, really bouncy right now.”

“It was an early morning,” Hongjoong replies sheepishly.

  
God.

Seonghwa went through a few phases of devastation after learning that, by some insane twist of fate, he found someone who looked  _ exactly  _ like his “gay awakening imagnary friend”. 

At first there was denial. There’s no way that it could be right? There’s no way Hongjoong - his real Hongjoong - is modelled after a standard apparently set at age  _ ten _ . Then came anger because what the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with him? How fucked up is it to subconsciously weigh someone against a twisted ideal set by a little boy? Then it was bargaining. He wonders where he went wrong and promises to be less shallow, to think more with his head than his heart or his dick. He wonders if maybe he does a lot of good deeds he can wake up and realize that this was all a bad dream. Or that he was colorblind this entire time. Depression slid in next. He wallowed in doubt and self-loathing, wondering if this has unknowingly impacted all of his relationships. Did all of his relationships fail in the past because of this strange subconscious obsession he didn’t know about? Is he just a piece of shit for objectifying ever person with red hair and hopping from one to another until finding the standard? The truth is, his feelings for Hongjoong are intense, and part of him dreads that when it inevitably goes south, he will never, ever experience such love again. He wonders what the point even is, really? Hongjoong may not be interested at all.

After broiling with all of the negativity and eating way too many holiday sweets, Seonghwa finally came to accept it. Yes, he has feelings for Hongjoong. Yes, Hongjoong looks exactly like an imaginary friend he apparently used to have. He can’t help it, he can’t change the past. What he  _ can  _ do is try his best to have a good future. And, honestly, as long as he keeps his intentions clear and pure, what’s so wrong about crushing on the guy?

Boiling it down to the simplest points: Seonghwa has a type. Hongjoong happens to be that type, and Seonghwa’s  _ really  _ into him. But Hwa knows deep down that it’s way more than the physical that draws him in, anyway. Hongjoong is charming and funny. He’s hard working and caring. He’s sensitive and empathetic. He’s sweet, kind, funny, savage, artistic, creative, and utterly brilliant. He is so many things. He is _ so much more _ than just a hot guy with red hair.

“So, where’s your dorm now?” Seonghwa asks.

“Same suite as before, second to the right.”

Second to the right. 

That phrase still sort of strikes a dissonant chord in his heart. He tries to ignore it, though.

“Nice!”

“Yeah, you know that guy who, like, basically used the dorm as a closet? Well, he moved out! I was already in there, and with your RA recommendation magic thing- bam!” He waves his hands in a flourish. It’s funny to remember how closed off he used to be compared to how vivid he is now. Part of Seonghwa was afraid that they’d sort of go back to square one after spending weeks apart. The texted a bit but never had any really long, deep conversations or anything. Thankfully, it seems like things are more than fine.

“It was not magic.”

“Totally was.”

“Okay Mr. Fairy King.”

“Ugh-!” Hongjoong makes a move to flick Seonghwa’s forehead, but Hwa deflects the hand easily.

“Wow! This abuse! After I helped you get into this dorm-”

“You just said-”

“And here I was, thinking of helping you move in. Nevermind. I’m gonna take a nap.”

  
“Wait!” Hongjoong gasps. “Wait- You were gonna help?”

“I was going to, but- oh!” Without warning, Joong tugs Seonghwa by the arm, leading him to his suite. “Wh- Oh my god, what is with you today!”

“Venti americano!” Joong singsongs as he drags Seonghwa to his suite. 

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Seonghwa laughs, putting up no real resistance to being dragged forward. His stomach flips as the other happily skips toward his dorm room. Shit. He’s cute. Hwa has to stop himself from combusting.

“I have the perfect job for you, actually,” Hongjoong says when he leads Hwa back into the dorm room. Unlike the last time Joong had moved in, there’s no bunk bed. Now it’s just two twin extra long beds - the standard. Unsurprisingly, his roomie is already situated and also absent. Hongjoong’s space had been fairly bare bones before, but now Seonghwa’s starting to see signs of actual, personalized life. He’s got a whiteboard hanging already full of to-do’s and a few posters hung up. A pretty strung garland with hooks displays tiny polaroids. Hwa finds it sort of odd that none of them are people. They all look sort of dreamy; blurred lights and closeups of textures, trees silhouetted against the sunrise and the brilliant, blue sky. 

“Seonghwa, over here,” Hongjoong beckons the other to the closet. He gestures to a couple of plastic bins, “Can you, um, can you put those up there?” He points to the top shelf.

It takes Seonghwa a second to fully get over the fact that Hongjoong is asking him to put stuff up high because he can’t reach. His face burns from blush, and he presses his lips together to stop himself from smiling. Apparently, his poker face sucks, though, because Hongjoong pouts.

“Don’t give me that look,” The redhead says, crossing his arms.

“I’m- I’m not giving a look,” Hwa replies.

“I see the look on your face.”

“What look? I don’t have a look.”

  
“You wanna laugh at me.”

“No I don’t.”

“For being short.”

“I’m- I’m not. I wouldn’t make fun of you,” Seonghwa replies, picking up one of the bins. “I would just say…” His voice gets so tiny, even he can barely hear it. “It’s cute.”

“What did you just call me?!”

“Nothing!”

“I heard that!” 

“Just- Let me get the other one up there!”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t pack a stepladder!”

“I’m not blaming you for anything!” Seonghwa laughs.

“I can see it in your eyes,” The redhead accuses, jabbing a finger into Hwa’s arm.

“Wh- I am not.”

“You’re looking down on me right now!”

“You act like I’m some tower. I’m normal.”

“Then what does that make me?!”

“It makes you… Cute-”

“I am not cute!” Hongjoong pouts adorably; Hwa isn’t sure if he’d done that on purpose or not. 

Hwa throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “Okay, fine. Fine. You’re not cute. You’re clearly a hardened thug and you are very intimidating and tough looking.”

“Better,” Hongjoong laughs. He skips away from the closet entrance, and Seonghwa can hear the squeak of him getting on his bed. “Since you’re here, can you help me get this poster up high, too?” He says from the room.

Hwa chuckles, rolling his eyes. His heart does flips just from being in the other’s presence. He feels sort of relieved that his feelings for Hongjoong weren’t just some passing infatuation. Even after not seeing him for awhile and barely talking, his hands still get clammy and his heartrate hastens. 

“Sure thing, Mr. Gangster,” Seonghwa says facetiously. Just as he’s about to step out of the split walk-in closet, something catches his eye. Sitting on one of the shelves on top of a pile of clothes is a book. It probably doesn’t go there, he figures, so he grabs it.

“Hey, I think you left this book in your closet,” Hwa says. The cover reads: “Sketch Journal”. “Wait- Hold up, you draw, too?” Makes sense. Hongjoong is pretty artistic, and he likes fashion. Maybe he’s got designs in there, Hwa muses. He’s probably really good at it, too. Seonghwa slides a finger beneath the binding without really thinking about it. It wouldn’t hurt just to take a peek, right?

“Huh?” Hongjoong grunts from his bed. “What are you talking ab- What are you doing?!”

“I wanna see your drawings,” Seonghwa says matter-of-factly.

“Hey, they’re- they’re not that good,” Joong hops off of his bed. “Just gimme that and-” He grabs for it, and Hwa holds it out of his reach. Now he’s interested. 

“Y’know, every artist says their stuff is crappy when it’s actually awesome,” Seonghwa replies. 

  
“Can I show you some other time?” Hongjoong reaches for the book again. Seonghwa purposefully holds it above his head so Hongjoong can’t get to it.

“Why are you so afraid of showing me? Now I’m curious,” He teases. “Wait- Is this where you draw all of your furry porn?”

“Ha ha,” Hongjoong breathes out wryly. “If I say yes, can I get it back?”

  
“Hmm…” Seonghwa pretends to think about it. “Just let me see one drawing.” Holding the book up, he opens it at a torturously slow pace, just to bother Joong more.

“I promise you it is boring- Why- Why are you stealing my stuff?!” Hongjoong huffs as he hops up, trying to reach the book.

“The only thing I am stealing is a peek. What’s got you so worked up anyway? Is there nudity in here? Is there- oh my god don’t tell me, this is full of drawings of me!” Seonghwa laughs. He squints, just starting to make out scribblings on the cracked open page.

“Seonghwa wait-”

“I am literally just gonna look at one page- one page, okay?”

“Wait- Please don’t-”

“Oh, what’s this? These are words, though…”

“Seonghwa-”

“Is this a news clipping? A collage-?”

“Uh- Seonghwa, please go out with me on a date!”

“I- Wh-What?” The entire world brakes to a screeching halt. 

“What did you say?” Seonghwa asks, eyes wide and entire body alight with elated shock. The book drops limply onto the floor. Hwa’s too taken aback to bother picking it up. As far as he cares, the book doesn’t exist. Because Hongjoong just… Asked him on a date?

Did he really just ask Seonghwa out on a date? Is this real life?

Hongjoong’s face is almost as red as his hair, and his lips are pressed tightly into a thin, anxious line. He dodges Seonghwa’s eyes any time the blond tries to catch his gaze. Is he being sincere? Or is this one of his jokes?

“Um. J-Just forget I said anything,” Hongjoong murmurs, eyes cast down onto the ground.

“Did- Did you just ask me out on a date?” Seonghwa almost pleads with the other, praying inside that it was real. It could’ve been something else, though. Maybe he’d heard Joong wrong, and this is all a misunderstanding.

“Uh- Um,” Hongjoong freezes up. It’s not dissimilar to when they’d first met. Tensity coils around the other visibly, making his entire body lock up into a defensive, closed off posture. He fidgets with his fingers as he responds.

“Hongjoong, please be honest with me. I- I won’t hate you no matter what.”

“Well, then, yeah. I- I did. I mean, uh, it wasn’t so much asking as it was sort of demanding,” He lets out a dry chuckle. His eyes are still on the ground. “B-But, if you’re not into me like that, that is so, so fine. I promise I won’t be angry about just- just friendship or anything. I am  _ perfectly  _ fine in the friend zone. I  _ love  _ the friend zone. Friendship is  _ great… _ ”

Hongjoong rambles on. Seonghwa registers the moving of lips, but he doesn’t really listen to what’s being said. He’s too overcome with emotion. The guy he’s been crushing on intensely for months likes him back. That same guy asked him out. Seonghwa almost feels ashamed for not being the one to make the first move. If there wasn’t a rib cage and layers of skin stopping it, his heart probably would’ve burst through his chest and thrown itself at Joong by now. As is, Seonghwa has to consciously stop himself from just grabbing the guy and squeezing the life out of him. 

It’s such a relief, Hwa almost wants to cry. He doesn’t have to keep everything pent up anymore. He likes Hongjoong and Hongjoong likes him, and assuming he doesn’t completely tank the date, things can go well. Really, really well. He’s already thinking of cute things they can do and spots they can go to. Hongjoong is way newer, so Seonghwa has a lot of places to show him. Hwa’s brain flies off into the land of fantasy, full of floating hearts and sparkling flowers and holding hands and cute laughs.

“...can you at least say something, please?” Hongjoong begs, bringing Seonghwa back down onto earth. 

The blond blinks the sparkley anime hearts out of his vision and nods, “I-I’m sorry, I just-”

“There is… There is nothing to be sorry for,” Hongjoong frowns.

Wait. No. That’s not it! Seonghwa scolds himself for not properly getting his point across. He forcibly pulls his thoughts out of his own head and puts them out into the air before Hongjoong convinces himself that Seonghwa doesn’t like him.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Seonghwa says warmly. “I’m sorry because to me it’s just- I think it’s ridiculous you would ever think I don’t like you.” He lets out an embarrassed laugh at the admission. “Of course I’d love to go out with you. I’ve, uh, I’ve actually liked you for a really long time.” 

“M-Me too,” Hongjoong replies, awed. His frown upturns into a coy grin, and he nudges Seonghwa playfully. “Wait, so, you had a crush on me?” He gets back onto his bed and grabs a poster he’d laid out. 

“Had… Have?” Seonghwa runs a hand through his hair. He joins the other on the crappy dorm mattress to make good on his promise to help. “Does it matter?”

Hongjoong hands Seonghwa another poster and snarks, “Oh my god, you had a crush on me.” He bumps the other with his hips.

“Wh- So did you!”

“So when did you know?”

“Know what?”   
  


“When you had a crush on me?”

“Wh- You liked me too! Why am I being questioned?” Seonghwa scoffs, entire body ablaze at this point. Aren’t these things supposed to conclude at the confession? Figures Hongjoong would dig more just to get a rise out of Hwa.

“What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“You know, I really like it when you’re, like, not talking,” Seonghwa jeers.

Joong sticks his tongue out and starts giving instructions on where to hang stuff. A restless giddiness buzzes in the room as the two continue. Seonghwa already can’t wait until he can take Hongjoong out. The two aren’t particularly affectionate, so he wonders if that’s why? Maybe Joong has just been shy this whole time? As lame as it is, the prospect of just holding the other’s hand and giving him a hugs makes Seonghwa nearly ascend into the next dimension.

It’s just different with him.  _ He’s _ different.

It seems too good to be true, and Seonghwa even asks Joong a few times if he’s for real, if he wants to take it back. He means it as a joke when he does. But of course, he knows: it’s only half joking. Still, no matter how annoying they are to one another, not once does Hongjoong take his words back. The stars must’ve aligned or there must be magic at work, Hwa tells himself.

* * *

Staticy music plays from the old gramophone Hongjoong somehow found one day in the forest. Some stuffy classical tune comes from it. It creates the perfect mood for what is the first and probably last official lost boys tea party. They played truth or dare a few days ago, and the youngest admitted that he never had a tea party before. He always saw the girls in his class having them and secretly really wanted one. 

Tea parties aren’t exactly Seonghwa’s speed, but for their cutest, youngest member, he’s happy to oblige. Honestly, after setting everything up, he sort of sees the appeal. The lost boys gathered all the necessary bits and bobs for a proper, fanciful tea party. They carried the biggest table from the den out into the clearing. The fairies kindly wove a lacy tablecloth, and Hongjoong treasure hunted for fancy plates and trays. A couple of the lost boys foraged herbs for tea which, apparently do grow in the forest. The boys pushed up everything from found chairs to rocks and logs to serve as chairs. Hwa contributed food. He saved up some of his allowance and bought as many pretty, little sweets as he could along with some sandwiches. Unoccupied spaces were given to dressed up stuffed animals, and the lost boys each tried their best to look as fancy as possible.

Hongjoong, donning a feathered hair clip and a silky robe, shouts, “I believe it is time to call our tea party into order!” He purposefully throws on an accent to sound more distinguished.

“Uh… What do we do?” One of the lost boys asks confusedly. He’d found a tie somewhere. It’s long and skinny, sort of like him.

Joong shrugs, “I dunno. Eat?” He picks up the delicate tea cup in front of him, “Don’t forget, though: pinkies out!” He sticks his pinky out. The lost boys accept the explanation and start digging into the little cakes and sweets Seonghwa had brought. 

Hwa himself is wearing part of a suit he had to wear for a choir concert the year before. He smartly went for black shorts, but the shirt and bowtie don’t look totally dweebish along with them. Hongjoong sits at the head of the table just beside Hwa. The black-haired boy’s other seat neighbor is a stuffed rabbit in a dress (Princess Fluffybutt, if Hwa recalls). 

The boys chatter animatedly, rattling off random, vaguely fancy sounding words like “cumquat” and “ubiquitous”. What’s most important is their youngest. The round-faced boy beams, bouncing happily in his seat as he nibbles on finger sandwiches.

“You know,” Hongjoong says to Seonghwa, “I never really got all the hype about tea parties, but I think I get it now.”

“Oh?” Hwa asks with a laugh. “Hongjoong enjoying a laid back tea party?”

“You insult me you cur!” The redhead shouts dramatically. “I am not Hongjoong. I am Lady Lucky!” Out of seemingly nowhere, he pulls out a fan. With a snap of the wrist, it unfolds, revealing a beautiful peacock pattern. 

“Wh- Where did you even get that?!”

Hongjoong - no, Lady Lucky - grins, “Abandoned cruise ship a few clicks off shore.”

“Wh- Really. I’ve never seen it flying in before.”

Joong shrugs, “It must’ve drifted on currents or something. We managed to find a lot of stuff there. Including this-” He does a spin, “ _ -glorious _ getup.”

“Not a bad look. I’m sorta jealous.”

“As you  _ should  _ be!” Joong boops Hwa on the nose with his fan. The leader’s gaze skims across the rest of the lost boys. “Thanks you for your help, by the way,” He says more seriously.

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing,” Seonghwa feels embarrassed though he doesn’t really know why. 

“It’s not nothing. It’s something,” The redhead replies defiantly. “I mean, obviously none of us were too into this, but he looks so happy.” He smiles fondly in the direction of their youngest. “I mean, I dunno why he wanted to get dressed up to eat sweets but, eh. Makes him happy.” The “proper lady” plops down in his seat unceremoniously.

“Yeah, tea parties are sort of an enigma to me.”

“A what?”

“Enigma, like- a mystery.”

“Oh.”

“Yup. It seems like an excuse for adutls to dress up and gossip about each other.”

Hongjoong snorts and nods to the stuffed bunny, “Any good gossip Princess Fluffybutt?” The stuffed bunny, unsurprisingly, has nothing to say. “I agree-” Joong turns to Seonghwa, “-she says you look like a butler in your suit.”

“Wh-! Hey!” Seonghwa snatches a mooncake off of the plate in front of him and chucks it at Hongjoong.

“Ugh- That is no way to treat a  _ lady _ , Seongwha!” Hongjoong grabs a sugar cube out of a bowl in front of him and chucks it back. “It’s a good thing you’re never gonna date one, because throwing things-” He throws another, “-is rude!”

“Ow! Ow- Hey!” The sugar cubes are actually sort of hard! Seonghwa retaliates, grabbing another mooncake and throwing it. “What kind of a lady throws stuff?!”

“This one!” Joong fires back.

The sophisticated tea party rapidly devolves into a glorified food fight. It’s tragic, really. Seonghwa spent his own hard-earned allowance on some of the food-converted-projectile-weapons. However, they say all is fair in love and war. It’s way more fun than just sitting around and talking. Seonghwa really can’t imagine that. 

Like, adults really just dress up all nice so they can sit and talk to a person?

Lame.

* * *

“You can do this,” Seonghwa tells himself to the mirror. “You can definitely do this.”

Every fiber of his being is hellbent on instilling the opposite message: that he can’t, in fact, do this. This being take Kim Hongjoong - young Fairy King, gay awakening imaginary friend, hot guy from across the hall, savage cutie Kim Hongjoong - on a date. Seonghwa’s spent the past week or so trying to play it down. It’s Hongjoong. They’ve hung out plenty of times. They sang entire musical scores of movies they watched and suffered over finals before.

But now it’s a date, so it’s different - right?

Seonghwa never wanted to look  _ bad  _ while hanging out with Joong, but they still spent half of their time together in pajamas or something comparable. The extent of their outings took them to a campus dining hall, cheap food spot or library. They talk, yes, but they don’t  _ talk  _ talk. A lot of the time in one another’s company is just comfortable silence. But with dates, the point sort of is to talk. To get to know the other. While Seonghwa knows many things about Hongjoong, there’s also a lot he doesn’t know - and a lot he wants to know.

What are his real hopes? Dreams? Aspirations? What’s his dream vacation? What does he think about late at night when he’s all alone with his thoughts? Does he like cats or dogs better? Sweet or spicy? Why red for his hair color? Has he tried other colors? Where does he want to end up in life? What are his feelings about marriage? Does he want kids? Does he want to travel the world? Why the obsession with glitter and sparkles?

Seonghwa stressedly rubs moisturizer into his skin. Never has he stressed so much about his features as he is now. Is his nose too big? What does Hongjoong think of it? Joong has such a pretty, perfect button nose. What if his big nose gets in the way of kissing? Will Hongjoong even want to kiss him? What if Hongjoong doesn’t want to kiss him? What if Joong thinks kissing on the first date is wrong? Or what if he wants to go all the way on the first night? Maybe he’s tired of being a virgin and just thinks Seonghwa’s the ideal sucker to take it from him. Is that a problem? Seonghwa thinks about it. It is and isn’t a problem. Hwa honestly doubts he could say no if Hongjoong really, really wanted to throw himself onto Hwa’s bed. 

“Stop it!” Seonghwa chastises himself for letting his mind run off the deep end. This is a date, yes, but they’re friends first. Hongjoong isn’t going to drastically change just because maybe they’re gonna hold hands. So neither should Seonghwa. “Calm down, just calm down…” He whispers to himself. Finished with his skincare routine, he checks his phone and gasps.

“Shit. Shit!” Apparently, he’d spent too much time in the bathroom. He told Joong he’d “pick him up” (aka text him when he’s in front of his door) at four, and it’s not fifteen minutes to four. Hwa darts out of his bathroom and runs to his closet, searching for something to wear. He’d spent hours the previous night trying to pick somtehing out. After tons of snaps sent to his friends and extended discussion, he woke up in the morning only to decide he didn’t like what he’d decided on. Hongjoong is always trendy and cute, and he’s genuinely  _ into  _ fashion. He probably wants a boyfriend who at least can display some sense of taste without being completely boring or cookie cutter. 

  
Seonghwa, on the other hand, considers himself fairly basic. He sort of aspires to look like James Bond - or at least the sort of laid back, college version of that. However, on his budget and body, the goal tends to diminish into something, well, not very Bond-esque. A sense of terror seizes Hwa briefly when he wonders what Hongjoong thinks about how he dresses.

“Just pick something,” Seonghwa grumbles to himself. He throws on a black turtleneck, black jeans and a plaid jacket. He quickly decides that he looks like a teacher and takes off the jacket. He tries another long-sleeved shirt over the turtleneck. It contrasts nicely, but it’s not quite working for him. Hwa throws off the turtleneck hastily, panicked as time ticks on. Being late for a first date would make the worst first impression ever. Sure, meeting times have been fudged a bit before, but those weren’t dates. Friend Seonghwa can raincheck or push back meeting up, but Boyfriend Seonghwa wants to show Hongjoong that he makes good on his promises.

In a panic, Seonghwa yanks a white tee with minimal design off of a hanger and throws it on. He tucks it in and puts the plaid jacket on again. With the tee, he feels like less of a jackass in the plaid jacket and goes with it, quickly searching for a belt to tie it together and boots. That ought to be appropriate for the event - an art gallery party thing that one of Joong’s fashion club friends got him tickets to. They were gonna do that then get some real food when they got tired of hanging out with the artsy types.

Seonghwa damn near wipes out as he multitasks like a manic man, throwing on a trench coat and attempting to button it while looping a scarf around his neck at the same time. He does the obligatory pocket check: keys, phone, wallet. Check, check, check. Checking his phone, he yelps upon seeing the time. It’s four.

Thankfully, the walk to Hongjoong’s suite door is literally seconds. Seonghwa practically leaps across the hall just to get there faster. Heart racing, he makes an effort to appear as composed and deliberate as possible. He shakily types out a text:

(You): Ready yet? :)

The response quickly comes back:

**Hongjoong** 🧚♂️✨: ill be out in a sec

**Hongjoong** 🧚♂️✨: im so so sorry im gonna be like ~5 mins ><

Hwa’s tempted to inform the other that Hongjoong could be an hour late and he wouldn’t be mad. Luckily he’d kept his initial text vague, so Hongjoong doesn’t know he’s waiting outside the door like a complete dweeb. 

(You): No problem

**Hongjoong** 🧚♂️✨: thank you 💖

The stupid sparkley heart emoji makes Seonghwa swoon. Yes. Swoon. It’s not like he got a lot of heart emojis before. Is that going to be a thing now? Heart emojis? For  _ him _ ? He almost sinks down the wall, but the possibility of Joong popping out any second stops him. 

“H-Hey, I’m really sorry for being late,” Hongjoong says sheepishly as he emerges from the door.

Seonghwa looks up from his phone which he’d been deliberately staring at so as to not look overattentive and weird. He greets Hongjoong with a smile, and his heart does about twenty flips. Hongjoong looks absolutely devastating. He’s wearing a black beret and matching turtleneck, covered in a tan trench. To top it all off, he has glasses on. The round specs are like the equivalent to a bullet through Seonghwa’s heart. 

“You look great,” Seonghwa replies, doing absolutely nothing to hide his fondness. “It was worth the wait.”

Hongjoong’s face flushes, and he chuckles, “Th-Thank you. Are you saying all those other times I didn’t look great?”

“Yes. I’m going on a date with you because I thought you always looked horrible,” Seonghwa replies flatly. Hongjoong stuffs his hands in his pockets and bumps Hwa lightly on the shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Yeah, lemme get the cab,” Seonghwa says, pulling his phone out.

“Oh, here, let me, um, give you my username thing. We can split it.”

“Nah, I got it,” Seonghwa insists. “It’s actually cheaper for one person to buy it, anyway.”

“But-”

“You’re the one who scored us tickets for this gallery thing.”

“But- I- I didn’t pay for it.”

Seonghwa stops and says softly, “Hongjoong, please, let me treat you. I- I mean this is hardly anything.”

Hongjoong’s resistance falters a bit. He pouts but nods in acceptance. Hwa grins and calls the cab, happy with his victory. Seonghwa tries to keep it laid back as they walk down the steps and get into the cab. However, it’s impossible to completely ignore the air of awkwardness between them. Attaching the word “date” to it exerts an almost palpable pressure. Every time they gravitate toward one another, something pulls them apart again. For Seonghwa, it’s nerves and hesitation. He could write an APA cited essay on all the ways he’d want to show affection to Hongjoong, but that doesn’t mean it’s decent to actually do it right away. There are boundaries. For all Hwa knows, something as simple as initiating a hug too quickly could cross those. Part of him thinks that might be an overreaction on his part, overthinking. But violating Hongjoong’s sense of safety is something Seonghwa never wants to do.

He wonders where Hongjoong’s head is at.

“S-So, what’s this thing again?” Seonghwa asks when the two are in the back of the cab.

“It’s an art exhibit opening party,” Hongjoong replies calmly. Hwa curses internally - life isn’t fair. How is Joong such a cool customer? Meanwhile Seonghwa feels like a mess, like a ferris wheel that’s come off its hinge and is rolling menacingly through the circus. “My friend from club knows the artist. They’re showing a new series of paintings off at the place and throwing a party to celebrate.”

“Oh. Are you familiar with the artist’s work?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Not really. I just looked them up, but it seems pretty interesting. Very tonal and and impressionistic.”

“Oh, sounds nice,” Seonghwa nods as if he knows what those words mean.

“Also,” Hongjoong laughs. “She informed me of free h’ors dourves and drinks.” And there’s the kicker. “You ever been to any of the galleries downtown?”

“Not really. Just walked by them,” Seonghwa admits. Downtown is fairly close to campus, but he doesn’t venture there often. As good as the food nightlife is, someone has to pay for that goodness. Occasionally he’d save up extra and his friends would squad up to hit up the artisan market days or festivals. That’s about it.

“Well, neither have I, so this is a first for both of us!” Hongjoong says with a smile. 

  
The cab ride is short, and soon enough the two slide out of the car onto the sidewalk. Hongjoong leads Seonghwa the rest of the way - down the block and around the corner. At the door to the unassuming side-entrance, the redhead flashes his phone with the tickets.

Seonghwa gasps upon crossing the threshold. They’d entered through a door in the alley surrounded by nothing but brick. He had no idea they’d step into an elegant gallery, full of light with some soft experimental hip-hop playing. Hipster types mill about with drink in hand, and cater waiters float around with trays of goodies. The two turn their coats into the coat-check and head in.

Anxiousness toils in Seonghwa’s gut, but he shoves it aside and musters bravery. The blond loosely loops a hand around Hongjoong’s waist as they enter. It’s a fairly casual gesture, at least, he hopes it seems that way. Just a little something to let Hongjoong - and the world - know he didn’t just walk in with Seonghwa. He’s with Seonghwa. Hwa is scared to death that the other will wince or wiggle away uncomfortably. When Hongjoong doesn’t, Seonghwa counts it as a win. As a matter of fact, Joong does the opposite of recoiling. Without a word or even a look, he leans into Seonghwa just ever so slightly.

Hwa plays it cool and asks, “Wanna get a drink and walk around?”

“Y-Yeah, sounds good,” Hongjoong replies. Is he nervous? Or is it a trick of the light? Seonghwa wonders. “I wonder what they have…”

“I see wine and beer,” Seonghwa responds, scanning the gallery. “I’m sure they have water and soda, too.” He adds, knowing Hongjoong doesn’t like drinking much. The redhead once told him that he doesn’t like the taste, and Hwa can hardly fault him for that.

“Hm. I think I’ll go for wine,” Joong shrugs. The blond raises his brows incredulously, to which the other responds, “What? When in rome…” Oh god, Hwa muses, maybe he really is nervous. The two collect a glass of white wine each and start walking the space.

Gradually, Seonghwa starts learning what “impressionistic” actually means. Or, at least, how to use it in a sentence and not sound like a moron. The exhibit displays a series of oil paintings of urban subject matters. There are street corners, condemned buildings, cars in traffic, stray dogs and even dumpsters. All of these are depicted in the impressionistic style. It’s interesting to see things normally portrayed as ugly or dirty romanticized through feathery brush strokes and soft color palettes.

The pair are contemplating a painting of trash blowing down the sidewalk titled “Firework” when Joong’s gaze darts elsewhere.

“Oh- That’s my friend!” He says, waving. “You cool with saying hi?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Seonghwa nods. “Go ahead, I’m cool hanging out with the plastic b-” Without warning, Hongjoong leads them - as in both of them - toward his friend. Seonghwa’s brain short circuits for a second when he realizes: Hongjoong is introducing him to a friend. 

A bouncy girl with dark hair squeals enthusiastically and hops toward Hongjoong, “Joongie!” She pulls him into a hug (and out of Seonghwa’s totally casual, not at all agonized over waist-hold). “You made it!”

“Hey Miss Nayeon,” Hongjoong greets her. “Your friend put on a hell of an exhibit. The art looks great.”

“Aw, shucks. I have a thing for being friends with super talented people,” She shrugs animatedly. “He’s walking around here somewhere, if you see him, let him know. Of course, he blends in so much. Honestly, we should’ve gotten him a lei or something so people can pick him out.”

Hongjoong laughs as he steps back. He looks so happy, it makes Seonghwa feel like he’s floating. Hongjoong has melded into Hwa’s friend group well. He’s more than just “Seonghwa’s crush” or “Seonghwa’s friend” to them. But, still, it’s nice to see Joong so cheery around his own people.

Thinking about it more, Hwa realizes he doesn’t know much about Hongjoong’s friends at all. Seonghwa feels guilty when he ralizes that he never really asked. Joong doesn’t talk much about them, either, though. Maybe he’s just a private person. Or does Hongjoong not want his friends to know about his other circle? But if that was the case, he wouldn’t bring Seonghwa over to his friend - right?

“So, tell me,” Nayeon says. “Is this-” Her voice drops into something exaggeratedly husky, “- _ the boy. _ ”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide, and he points to himself, “The boy?” He searches Hongjoong’s face for an answer. What he gets is a very, very red Hongjoong. Hwa’s surprised those cute little glasses of his aren’t fogging up. 

Since Hongjoong is apparently rendered incapable of speech due to sudden shyness, Hwa takes on the burden of self introduction, “I’m Seonghwa, nice to meet y-”

  
“This is Seonghwa, my date!” Hongjoong blurts out.

Nayeon gasps, and a massive smile takes over her face, “The Seonghwa?”

“I’m a- I’m a ‘the’?” Hwa turns to Hongjoong again, hoping to glean any sort of answer. At this point, Hongjoong is burying his face in his hand.

“Hongjoong has told me  _ all  _ about you,” Nayeon says cheekily.

“All about me?” Seonghwa can’t keep the hint of amusement from his tone. “Only terrible things, I hope.” He jokes.

“Oh!” Hongjoong squeaks out. “Would you look at that-” He holds up his now empty wine glass - did he drain it in the five seconds Hwa wasn’t watching? “-my glass is empty, so, I’m gonna get another wine. Or jump off a cliff, I dunno I’ll decide when I get to the bar.”

“Wh- Hongjoong!” Seonghwa calls after the redhead, but it’s too late. He’s determined, powerwalking toward the bar like it’s an oasis in a desert.

“Damn,” Nayeon laughs when he’s out of earshot, “You’re even hotter than he said you were.”

“I- He- He what?” At this poitn in the night, Seonghwa just permanently feels like he’d been dipped in molten lava. He ought to be used to the prickling sensation of embarrassment flushing his face, but it somehow surprises him every time. “He- He talked about me?”

Nayeon nods and wiggles her eyebrows - is she always like this, or has she had too much?

“A lil’ bit, yeah. He’s said some really, really sappy stuff too.”

“Has… He?” Seonghwa’s starting to wonder if the girl’s messing with him.

“Oh, some unreal romantic shit. He’s literally so  _ cute  _ about you it makes me soft.”

“O-Oh,” Seonghwa doesn’t know how to respond to that. He glances toward the bar, secretly willing the other to save him. “Well, I like him a lot, too.”

“Oh my god  _ cute _ !” Nayeon giggles. Thankfully, Hongjoong appears from the crowd around the bar and starts walking closer. Nayeon scoots a little closer and leans in, lowering her voice so only Seonghwa can hear. With her eyes on Joong the entire time, she whispers, “Just know that if I ever find out you’re just dating him to take his v-card, or if you ever hurt him in general, really - I’ll chop your dick off and use it to decorate my sorority house’s mantle.”

Seonghwa squeaks, and a hand reflexively flinches to cover his crotch. Before he can attempt a response, Hongjoong returns, all smiles with wine in hand.

“Glad to see you chose wine over the cliff,” Seonghwa says.

“Look at you serving that wine mom realness!” Nayeon chirps jovially, the complete opposite from her threatening tone before.

“Stop it, this is like, my second glass,” Hongjoong sighs. Even if it’s from embarrassment, Seonghwa can’t help thinking it suits him. 

“That’s two more glasses than I could ever get you to drink at my parties,” Nayeon pouts. “Ugh, dick really does change a man.”

Seonghwa freezes. Actually, burns is a more apt descriptor. The mere implication sends Seonghwa’s brain into sinful territory at lightspeed. Hongjoong actually spits some of his wine back into his glass.

“Nayeon!” The redhead gripes. “This is why we can’t take you anywhere nice!”

The cheery girl cackles, “What? I’m just glad you’re trying new things.” Her pupils very deliberately dart between the two of them. Hwa does his best British palace guard impression as Hongjoong groans. 

“ _ Why _ are you like this?”

“Hm. Maybe the childhood trauma?”

“Can’t you channel it somewhere productive? Maybe your brain holds the cure to cancer and you don’t even know it.”

“Why can’t I do both? Women can do anything these days,” Nayeon jokes. “And this woman, is gonna go find another woman so-” She holds up a peace sign, “-peace.”

“You are… So much,” Hongjoong says, going in for a farewell hug.

“I know, love,” Nayeon titters. When she unlatches from the redhead, she gives Hwa a genial wave, “It was nice to meet you Seonghwa!”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Seonghwa says with a smile he hopes doesn’t look as pained as he feels. Last thing Hwa sees before the girl turns around is her gesturing between her eyes and him. “I’m watching you” she says without words. 

What a nice sentiment to leave on.

“Whatever she said,” Hongjoong coughs out, “Don’t believe her.”

“O-Okay,” Seonghwa laughs.

“So… What… What did she say?” Hongjoong asks.

Hwa’s brows raise, “Uh she said… Stuff.”

“W-Well what kind of stuff?”

“Oh. You really wanna know what she told me, don’t you?” Seonghwa smirks.

Hongjoong’s mouth falls open, “Oh, come on.”

“Hm, y’know I don’t really remember,” Seonghwa jokes.

“Seonghwa.”

“I mean, I’m trying to recall, but…”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong bats at him gently.

“No, now I’m not gonna tell you. You’re hitting me.”

“Wh- Seriously?” Hongjoong gasps. “Seonghwa,” He bats at Hwa again. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa-”

“Oh my god, are you just gonna do that until I tell you?” Seonghwa gasps incredulously.

“Seonghwa, Seonghwa-”

“You have had one full glass of wine, how are you like this?”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong whines, tugging at Hwa’s sleeve incessantly.

“Oh my god, fine! You brat!” Seonghwa exclaims. “You wanna know what she said?”

“Yes, please,” Hongjoong smiles graciously.

“All she said was that… You’re cute.”

“Shut up. I know her, she’s evil. She said more than that.”

Seonghwa laughs, “Okay, well, she said you talked about me- didn’t even tell me what you said, so-” Hwa throws his hands up. “She just said that you’re romantic and cute. And… I kinda agree.”

“O-Oh,” Hongjoong backs off a bit. His gaze skitters away shyly. “Just kinda?”

“Well, obviously I think you’re cute,” Seonghwa elaborates. “But, I haven’t had the opportunity to see your romantic side much yet.” It’s the honest truth. He knows Hongjoong in many ways, and while the kid is generally a romantic, Hwa hasn’t seen him be romantic.

“Okay,” Joong nods, accepting the answer.

“She also threatened me.”

“Oh. That’s more like it.”

“Yeah. Said she’d cut my dick off and use it to decorate her mantle if I ever hurt you.”

“Heh- Sorry about that. About her. She’s just… Special. A little protective.”

“No, I get it,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “You’re worth protecting. I’d say the same thing, too.”

“You’d threaten to cut someone’s dick off and use it as a mantle decoration?”

Hwa snorts, “Fine- I would say something  _ similar _ .”

“You would threaten someone with physical harm for me? That’s so sweet!” Hongjoong coos jokingly. He wraps an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and pulls him close. “C’mon, let’s go over there. We haven’t seen those yet.”

Positively melting, Seonghwa obliges. His thoughts reduce to a very singleminded “Hongjoong cute, Hongjoong cute, Hongjoong cute-” loop. He fantasizes about just squeezing the life out of the other with a hug and kissing the top of his head. Part of him just wants to eat Hongjoong, that’s how charming he finds the guy. He just wants to sink his teeth into those pretty cheeks or nip the tip of his little button nose.

Hwa tries to strike the pseudo-cannibalistic thoughts and focus on the present. The two mill about a bit more, commenting on this painting or that. Hongjoong further explains impressionism - what exemplifies the style, when it began and how impressionist painters at the time were considered rebels. Seonghwa starts to gain a bit more confidence regarding the subject when they stop in front of a canvas almost as tall as him.

“Do you have a favorite yet?” Seonghwa asks Hongjoong. The painting seems to be an abandoned building of some type sometime around midday. The almost muddy looking building starkly contrasts the blazing oranges and bright blues of the sky above.

Hongjoong tilts his head, curiously taking in the sight before them, “I don’t know.”

“No?”

“It’s all sort of ugly- Like, the- the subject matter, not the art style,” He looks around, paranoid. “Impressionists usually like to paint what’s natural, so it’s a bit of a departure from that.”

“Speaks to the rebellious nature of impressionism, doesn’t it?”

Hongjoong lets out a wry laugh, “Look at you, talking all smart when you didn’t know a Cezanne from a Monet an hour ago.”

“I had a good teacher,” Seonghwa shrugs.

“Well said,” Hongjoong laughs with a smile. “Next week I’ll teach you all about color theory.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. Will you teach me how your hair always looks perfect and I never see roots?”

“I can tell you right now: it’s magic.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m serious, I could use some tips. Mine are starting to grow back.”

“I liked yours black better anyway. Now, for this painting I just- I find it a bit depressing to look at this kind of stuff. No matter how nicely you paint it, it’s still what it is. It’s like a reminder of the crappy direction humanity has taken. Pollution, the delapidation of infrastructure, loss of jobs, homelessness…”

“Huh,” The blond considers it for a moment. “I disagree.”

“Yeah?” Hongjoong quirks an eyebrow.

“I do,” Seonghwa replies with more confidence. “I like applying this sort of, like, pretty, thoughtful style to everyday, mundane things. Stuff that can be seen as - yeah - depressing. The way the colors are so nice sort of make these things look… Beautiful. It’s like finding beauty in the ugly, making even the biggest eyesores of everyday life into something vibrant. Like- It kinda shows that there’s a sort of captivating charm in everyday life.”

“I thought so, too,” A voice pipes up behind them. Seonghwa and Hongjoong turn to see an unfamiliar young man. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. It’s always interesting how dozens of people look at the same thing, and they never quite draw the same conclusions.”

“O-Oh, sorry, are we blocking your way?” Seonghwa mutters.

The man shakes his head, “No- Oh, the name’s Yuri, by the way,” He extends his hand. The surprised couple return the gesture courteously and introduce themselves. Seonghwa glances back at the painting, and his eye catches the little title card next to it. The card reads: “The Bakery, 2019 - Yuri Jeu”.

“Wait-” Seonghwa squawks. “You’re Yuri as in-”

“Thanks for coming to my exhibit!” The artist says with a grin. Seonghwa can feel Hongjoong’s nails dig into his side.

“Thank you for having us,” Seonghwa chokes out. “Um- Your work is great. Really thought provoking. I- I like the colors.”

“Heh- Thanks. Well, enjoy yourselves guys. Don’t be shy with the bar or the bites,” The artist amicably waves before striding off to surprise some other unsuspecting observers.

When he’s gone, Hongjoong buries his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa freezes for a second because, holy shit, Hongjoong is burying his face in Hwa’s shoulder. He can feel the redhead’s breath tickle his neck and the warmth of his skin. The blond’s thoughts swim as he struggles to just breathe properly.

“I can’t believe he heard that,” Hongjoong squeaks. “I can’t believe the artist just heard me diss his work.”

“Y-You didn’t say it was ugly or bad,” Seonghwa tries.

“I said it was depressing, though which is totally the opposite of his perspective.”

“I thought art was supposed to be open to interpretation?”

“I just-” Hongjoong’s dying noise gets muffled by Hwa’s shoulder.

Seonghwa chuckles, looping his arm around the other’s shoulders, “Why don’t we get out of here? We’ve seen all of the paintings, and you’ve had a bit to drink on an empty stomach.”

“I’m not drunk, just dumb,” Hongjoong sulks.

“Okay dummy, c’mon, there’s plenty of stuff we can walk to. Let’s see what looks good.”

“I’m not dumb,” Hongjoong unburies his face from Hwa’s shoulder to flash him a dissatisfied pout. 

Seonghwa just laughs, “Fine. We can decide what you are over dinner, how about that?”

“Okay,” Hongjoong accepts it like a mopey kid.

The couple moseys on over to coat check and grabs their things. Hwa graciously offers to help Joong find Nayeon so they can say goodbye, but Joong declines. (For that, Seonghwa feels grateful.) When the two emerge into the cool winter night, Seonghwa huddles Hongjoong closer with an arm around the shoulders. Joong’s remains fixed around Hwa’s waist.

Though freezing cold, it’s beautiful out. Snowflakes fall calmly from the sky. They twinkle in the streetlights like tiny diamonds. The couple walks in comfortable silence for a few moments, just taking it in. Even the hustle and bustle of downtown feels subdued beneath the veil of clouds and snow.

A wave of nostalgia hits Seonghwa. The entire situation feels almost familiar, like deja vu. Something about the snow and holding Hongjoong... However, he can’t pin it down. Whatever stray memories his brain had thrown together hardly matter, anyway. What counts is the here and now. Here, in the city, just the two of them now in one another’s arms, walking down the street. Most people traversing the town walk rushedly, cowering from the cold. It keeps the street mostly deserted.

Hongjoong’s presence warms Seonghwa so much that the cold hardly bothers him at all. He’s so incredibly whipped it’s not even funny, but he can’t be assed to care. Seonghwa ventures a glance at the other. Hongjoong appears content to quietly walk onward until they find somewhere to eat. There’s a smile fixed on his lips and a flush across his cheeks.

Feeling bold, Seonghwa presses a gentle kiss on the other’s temple. His heart seizes up when he draws back, waiting for a reaction. He prays that the other won’t freak out or feel violated from the lack of warning.

“Wh-What was that for?” Hongjoong squeaks out the question.

“Felt like it,” Seonghwa says coolly.

Another few minutes pass by without a word. Just them, the snow gently falling and the occasionall car. Seonghwa’s nerves dance beneath his skin, and he starts worrying. Had he crossed a line? Did Hongjoong find the kiss too brazen? Obnoxious? What if he’s just not a touchy feely type at all, and he actually hates kisses?

Suddenly, Hongjoong yanks Seonghwa by the scarf. The redhead pulls Seonghwa’s lips onto his. Hwa’s eyes blow wide open with shock, but his eager body doesn’t hesitate to respond. He loops his arms around Hongjoong’s neck, pulling him closer and leans in. The blond quickly melts into the kiss. Though chaste, the kiss sends Seonghwa reeling. Fireworks explode inside his chest. His lungs squeeze, and his entire body vibrates with want and validation. He wants to just wrap himself around the other; hug him tighter, kiss him harder, pour every ounce of adoration that he’d kept pent up out.

When they separate, Seonghwa’s breathing is ragged. He can barely remember where they were and how they’d gotten for. All he can think about is those lips. Those stunning, plush, petal-like, pink lips. 

“Wh-What was that for?” Seonghwa asks dazely.

Hongjoong murmurs in a low voice, “Because I felt like it. Felt like it for a long time.”

“Me, too,” Seonghwa says.

“Mm. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Hongjoong admits.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Seonghwa says. “One more couldn’t hurt.” His eyes flutter shut as he leans in, and a tiny sound leaves the other’s mouth as their lips meet yet again.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Seonghwa takes a deep breath as his body flies effortlessly through Neverland’s bright, blue sky. He floats stomach up just to catch as many rays of sunlight as he possibly can. His mom always scolds him when he’s out for long days without sunscreen, but it doesn’t matter to him. She keeps wondering how he always looks so dark when he supposedly is seldom outside. If only she knew.

The lost boys all zip and zoom across the sky. Some race, some float hand in and, and others graze the forest canopy with their fingertips for the fun of it. They all chase something - a dream, a game, a wish, or even one another. Seonghwa finds himself on the opposite end of that, though. Time chases him. It gains on him with every second of every day. The countdown dwells over him malevolently.

In just over a month, Seonghwa will turn thirteen.

Every step closer to that milestone feels like a step closer to doom, to isolation. To being away from Hongjoong, Neverland, and the rest of the lost boys. It drags Hwa down like an anchor tethered to his heart. Seonghwa wishes he could be happy in the present, but he can’t stop dreading the future.

So far, Hongjoong talks as if Seonghwa staying is an inevitability. All their promises of forever and always ring true to him. But how will that work? Thirteen makes Seonghwa a teenager. Sure, he’ll barely be one, but then what happens when he turns fourteen. Fifteen? And all the while, Hongjoong remains himself at age eleven. Can they really be friends when Seonghwa keeps growing and Joong remains a boy for life?

Seonghwa frowns. He shouldn’t be thinking about dreary stuff like that! It’s a beautiful day in Neverland. If it’s destined to be one of his last, then so be it! He may as well have fun. He stubbornly drags himself out of his hole of sadness and turns around so he’s facing forward. Determined to make the best of the afternoon, Seonghwa finds their leader. It’s easy as heck given how his bright red hair almost glows in contrast with the clear blue sky.

“Hey, Joong!” Seonghwa calls ahead of himself. “I’ll race you to the hideout!”

Hongjoong turns around, and he looks a bit baffled at first. However, the look falls and he nods.

“You’re on!” He shouts back.

Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate to take off. He propels himself forward with a wide grin, quickly surpassing the leader. Is Joong taking it easy on him? In truth, that’s the one thing Seonghwa has never been able to do his entire time in Neverland: beat Hongjoong in a race. No matter how hard he tried, Hongjoong almost always managed to pull ahead last second. He always made it look easy, too. Seonghwa decides that he can’t turn thirteen without beating Joong at least once. It’ll be a birthday gift to himself, he thinks.

“You’re slow today!” Seonghwa taunts the other as he lowers himself closer to the canopy. The black-haired boy scans the gaps in the leaves below for a good entry point. If he’s clever enough, he can draw Joong into the understory and outmaneuver him around the trees.

Surprisingly, there’s no comeback or witty remark. Hwa checks just to make sure Hongjoong is still around and hasn’t pulled impossibly ahead. The redhead trails behind him with an expression of almost strained concentration. He’s really focused on winning this. It’s peculiar to see such determination since Hongjoong usually acts so laid back.

But maybe it’s just a trick. Seonghwa doesn’t let the odd behavior distract him and goes with his plan. He descends beneath the barrier of overlapping branches into the forest proper. The sound of foliage rustling behind him tells him that Joong followed.

“You’re faster, but I’ve been practicing my turns!” Seonghwa shouts to the other over his shoulder. He weaves around trees deftly, turning tight corners with precision. The hideout is not a click away, motivating Seonghwa to fly even faster. 

“Not bad!” Hongjoong hollers from behind. How is he still behind? Is this a new strategy? It very well could be. Seonghwa keeps on his toes, maintaining focus as he takes the most efficient path to the base. Excitement fills Seonghwa to the brim, fueling the magic within to send him further faster. A massive smile crossing his face, Hwa zips between trees toward the lost boys’ hideout.

Just a little more, he tells himself.

Just a little more!

Seonghwa, ecstatic, flies so quickly he nearly overshoots the clearing. The black-haired boy comes to a screeching halt in-air. He scarcely avoids crashing into a tree. Catching himself with flailing limbs, Seonghwa scans the area quickly. Where is Hongjoong? Did he get there so fast that Hwa didn’t even see him? There’s no way he could possibly still be flying, right?

The black-haired boy’s jaw drops when he sees the redhead rush into the clearing seconds later. He can’t believe it. He got there before Hongjoong. He did it. He finally beat Hongjoong in a flying race. After all this time, he really, truly did it!

An ear to ear grin stretches across Seonghwa’s face, and he beams, “Ha! I finally did it! I beat you!”

“Y-Yeah, you did…” Hongjoong replies.

Hwa’s smile drops off immediately. Something isn’t right. He drifts closer to the other, and a sensation of discomfort begins to roil in his stomach. Hongjoong leans heavily against a tree, and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a sheen of sweat all over his unusually pale looking complexion.

“Joong?” Seonghwa floats closer, “Joong are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” The redhead’s response comes out hoarse. “Yeah, ‘m fine, just… I was goin’ easy on you, thas’ all.”

“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa frowns.

“Congrats on beating the champ fair ‘n square,” A loud cough jumps out of Hongjoong’s throat. It sounds painful and scratchy. “I think… I’m not usually big on naps, but… But today I m… I might…” The light in his eyes flickers on and off until finally shutting down completely. He wobbles a bit, then suddenly his body begins dropping toward the ground.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa shouts worriedly. He rushes to grab the other, narrowly saving him from crashing into the ground. Chest aching with worry, Seonghwa shakes the half-conscious leader. “H-Hongjoong! Hongjoong are you okay?”

Dazedly, the redhead blinks his eyes open, “Hm? Hwa..? What- I’m fine.”

“Hongjoong, are you sick?”

“I’m just gonna need a… Take a nap.”

“Hongjoong!”

“Just a nap is all… Lay me down with some… Leaves for a pillow. That’ll be… That’ll be good…” Hongjoong trails off, and his head lulls to the side. 

Panic pushes Seonghwa to the verge of tears, but he holds everything together with all his might. His brain goes down a list of all the things he needs to do, should do. He tries to remember everything his mom has ever told him about colds and all the things she’s done for him. Hwa presses a palm gingerly on the other’s forehead and winces. Hongjoong’s burning up! Or, at least, Seonghwa thinks. He’s pretty sure the other feels warm. He’s pale for sure, and those coughs sounded like no joke.

Worried and anxious, Seonghwa does his best to carry the other over to the den. All he wants is for Hongjoong to be okay. All of the thoughts about turning thirteen and races and the doom countdown slip from his mind. He just wants his best friend to be okay.

He needs it.

* * *

Some drama drones on in the background at low volume. The eerie cold, blue coming from the TV screen is the only light in the room. It’s far from candlelight, but it’s plenty romantic to Seonghwa. It highlights Hongjoong’s beautiful features all the same, catching the peaks of his profile and even the length of his long eyelashes.

Seonghwa isn’t sure when things escalated. He’d invited his boyfriend over for a casual study session. They were so productive for a few hours, but then Joong mentioned something about wanting a break. The couple cast aside their books and turned off the lights. They lasted about ten minutes into the episode of their shitty drama before Hongjoong coyly climbed into Seonghwa’s lap.

A heavy, heady haze fills Seonghwa’s head. He can barely think, and what little thoughts he can manage are all related to the boy on top of him. Hongjoong. Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong. Beautiful, petite, stunning, savage, sassy, brilliant, smart, intellectual, artistic, creative Hongjoong. Hongjoong with his arms looped around Seonghwa’s neck. Hongjoong shuddering under Seonghwa’s touch. Hongjoong with the ragged breaths between feverish kisses. His Hongjoong.

Warmth swims into Seonghwa through his lips and pools in his stomach. It runs through his veins, all the way down to his toes. His arms rest lazily around Hongjoong’s waist, and his forehead on Joong’s forehead when their lips aren’t together. That isn’t often, though.

Hungry, Hongjoong goes in for another. He’s so damn eager, it fills Seonghwa to the brim with heat and adoration. What the redhead lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm, and it’s damn endearing. Seonghwa’s pretty sure he could make out with Hongjoong for hours and it’d be nothing but blissful.

Seonghwa’s body burns for Hongjoong. It itches under his skin, the want, the need. The keen desire to let his experience take the lead. He reigns it back though, allowing the other to explore for himself. In truth, a part of him wants Hongjoong to ask for what he wants. The thought turns him on more than it probably should.

Joong nips gently at Seonghwa’s lip, making the blond’s lips quirk up. Cute, Hwa thinks. That’s Hongjoong’s rather shy way of asking for more in a kiss - something Seonghwa learned fairly recently. Seonghwa takes the invitation graciously, swiping his tongue over the other’s lips. A sweet high surges through his veins at the taste of the other’s lips. One day, Seonghwa is going to sink his teeth into them. But not today. Today, he’s happy to be slow, lax even. He relishes in their gradual opening up to one another. It’s like watching a flower bloom. At first, it’s nothing but a bud, but over time, with care and love, it blossoms into something stunning. 

Hongjoong parts his lips, and a squeaky little groan leaves them when Seonghwa slips his tongue in. The grip on Seonghwa’s nape tightens, and Hwa holds the other closer. It’s like a dream to hold the other’s body flush against his. The more they spend time close like this, the harder it is to hold back the desire to devour the other. The want makes Seonghwa’s hair stand on end and sends his mind into a whirlwind of nonsensical wantonness. It’s almost like a trance. Hongjoong could ask him to do damn near anything and Seonghwa would do it. As long as it meant getting to hold him closer longer, getting to steal just a few more kisses and hear a few more breathy little sounds.

Seonghwa moves his hands to Hongjoong’s hips. He rubs circles with his thumbs soothingly as he deepens the kiss. Another soft noise escapes Hongjoong’s lips. The noise goes into Seonghwa’s ears and directly enters his boiling bloodstream. Hongjoong told him before that this is about as far as he’s gone - making out, kissing with tongue. As little as that means to someone more experienced, Seonghwa can see its profound effect on the redhead. When Hongjoong pulls off, his eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly ajar. His chest rises and falls rhythmically to catch his breath. Seonghwa can hear it, heavy and quivering. 

One of the tiny threads of restraint holding Seonghwa back snaps. It’s just a little one, but it’s enough to prompt him to push for just that slight bit more. Hongjoong’s said it before: he trusts Seonghwa, he’ll let Seonghwa lead, he’ll always speak up if something is too much. Hwa would never, ever want to hurt Hongjoong, so he feels confident taking the slight plunge into newer territory. 

Slowly, the blond leans in. He starts with a kiss on the cheek, chaste and soft. He plants another, then another gradually leading down to the jawline. Seonghwa presses barely-there kisses up the curve of Hongjoong’s jaw until he reaches his ear. He can feel Hongjoong’s hitched breaths down the side of his face. Inner fire fueled further, Seonghwa advances. He trails wet kisses down the other’s neck, stopping in a few spots to lightly suck and lap. No hickeys will result from it, for certain, but the suction, the slight graze of teeth, is just enough for a slight hint. 

Hongjoong tilts his head to make more room for Seonghwa. The blond has to stop himself from smiling against the other’s skin. God, he wonders, how can a person be so cute and sexy at the same time? Seonghwa goes further and further down Hongjoong’s neck, stopping to suck on a particular birthmark that he’s always thought was cute. Shit, Seonghwa curses internally. He wants more, but he’s not willing to take more than this. At least not with the go-ahead. He vents some of that into the pressure of his hold, digging his fingers in ever so slightly more. Images of Hongjoong laid out beneath him, a wriggling mess, flash through his mind. He casts those thoughts aside, reminding himself that all good things come to those who wait. Even if that doesn’t come to him at all, he’s so, so happy to have the moments he has.

Seonghwa does his best to burn into memory the way Hongjoong quivers under his touch. Hwa experiments just to see what gets the prettiest little reactions. He tries grazing his teeth against the meat of Hongjoong’s shoulder and nipping at what bits of the collarbone he can reach. It’s when Seonghwa nips at an earlobe that he strikes gold. Hongjoong’s breath hitches, and his legs clench. A tortured, whiny noise pushes out of his throat. 

Hwa doesn’t let the other catch his breath. He brings his mouth to the other’s again, sucking in the redhead’s pretty lower lip between his. Hongjoong squirms, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. Whether by intention or not, his hips cant, and Hwa lets out a muffled groan.

Fire swells in Seonghwa’s stomach, running up his insides and searing his chest. After pressing another kiss on Joong’s lips, Hwa quickly returns to the redhead’s neck. He sucks on the spot where Hongjoong’s neck meets his jaw, just beneath his ear. 

“H-Hah,” Hongjoong gasps. His body lurches again. More, more, more - that’s all Seonghwa can think now. He just wants more, needs more. The other trembles beneath his touch and the vibrations run through Hwa’s skin. Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong flush to him and grinds his hips into the other’s.

“Mmn-” Another delicious sound from those gorgeous lips.

“H-Hwa,” Hongjoong whispers breathily.

“Mm,” Hwa hums against Hongjoong’s skin, “You like it, don’t you?”

“I- I do- h-hhah-”

“I can tell,” Seonghwa grins, sucking an earlobe between his teeth.

“Seonghwa-a-ah- I- I like it, but-”

“Hm?” Seonghwa practically feels like he’s under a trance, hypnotized. He can just barely acknowledge the other speaking, so focused on giving him pleasure.

“T-Too much,” Hongjoong breaths out shakily as his body tenses. “It- ‘s too much. ‘M sorry, I- I can’t-”

The fog of desirous haziness immediately dissipates. Seonghwa’s eyes go wide, and he immediately draws back.

“Oh my god,” The blond gasps. “I’m so sorry.” He loosens his hold on the other and leans away a bit to give him space.

“N-no,” Hongjoong shakes his head. His eyes are cast down, and he worries at his lower lip. “I’m sorry, I- You know what we could- we could try it again actually-”

“No,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “I don’t wanna do it if you’re not comfortable.”

“I- I’m sorry,” Hongjoong buries his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I’m- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Stop apologizing,” Seonghwa says. His tone is soft, but he hopes it comes across as at least sort of firm. He’s serious about this. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I just-” Hongjoong heaves a sigh. He sits up again and wrings a hand through his hair, “I wish I was more, I dunno, normal. I- I dunno-”

“I like you because you’re you,” Seonghwa informs him. “Not because you’re normal.”

“Yeah, but- but still- I mean- I- I don’t know when I’ll be ready and I mean, you’re cool now, but… Who knows how long you’ll have to wait.”

“Hongjoong-”

“C’mon, I can tell you’re frustrated. I mean, you’re-” Joong pointed looks down at his crotch. 

Seonghwa coughs sheepishly, “Well, you’re hot. And, yeah, okay I won’t lie to you it’s, like, it builds a bit of tension, but I don’t care. You’re worth waiting for. I’d rather wait years or until marriage than go further knowing you’re not into it.”

“Hold up- did you just say marriage?”

“Wh- I-” Seonghwa’s face flushes for a different reason this time. “I- You know what I meant, okay! It’s- it’s the common expression… Thing. Y’know. How people wait until marriage for some… Arbitrary religious reason. I- Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Awww,” Hongjoong’s flustered expression is nowhere to be found. He’s back to his own bubbly, teasing self, smirk and all. “You’re so into me.”

“Oh my god.”

“Are you looking at rings already?”

“Y’know, even joking about marriage usually freaks most people out. Why are you enjoying this so much?”

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting in a tree-”

“Never are you ever-”

“-K-I-S-S-I-N-G-”

“-doing this right now,” Seonghwa groans.

Joong carelessly singsongs, “First comes love, then comes _ marriage _, then comes- oof!”

“A pillow to the face,” Seonghwa snarks after tossing the closest one he could reach. 

“Ugh! You jerk! Stop throwing stuff at me and get to studying already,” Hongjoong laughs, dismounting.

Seonghwa internally laments the loss of warmth but laughs, “Excuse you. You’re the one who wanted to take a break in the first place.”

“We needed a break!”

“Mhm.”

“Oh fuck off and hand me my notebook,” Hongjoong grumbles cutely. “I think I threw it off the floor with everything else- save for the laptops, anyway.”

“You’re _ welcome _,” Seonghwa huffs, completely obliging in spite of his facetious tone. He has a tendency to do that - bitch nonstop about Hongjoong being a brat while simultaneously giving in every time. It’s sort of a bad habit and by no means an effective way to teach discipline. But, shit, Hongjoong is so cute. Seonghwa hardly cares.

Seonghwa dutifully hands Hongjoong his notebook, laptop, pencils, and probably some of his own dignity with them. He gathers his own things and piles them neatly on the bed. Just as he flicks the light switch back on, Hongjoong groans across the room.

“Goddammit, I left my calculator in my room,” The redhead gripes. “But I don’t wanna move…”

Seonghwa heaves a sigh, pacing over to his bed, “You want me to get it?”

Joong bites his lip eagerly, “Will you? I mean, you don’t have to, I can just-”

“I’m already up,” Seonghwa shrugs. Without another word or half-hearted protest, Hongjoong tosses the blond his keys with a wide grin. He thanks his boyfriend with a peck on the cheek before waving him off with a happy thank you. 

Hwa props the suite door open and quietly heads to Hongjoong’s room. He raps softly on the door, and after getting no response, walks in. The only sign of another life is the slightly tousled sheets on the bed opposite Joong’s. Apparently, that guy has something better to do with his night than stay in. Good on him, Hwa thinks. Seonghwa flips the light on and starts searching. 

He chuckles to himself, taking in the true, organic nature of Hongjoong’s living space. The redhead is artistic, and his space definitely reflects that in its cluttered, scatterbrained kind of way. Seonghwa starts padding around Hongjoong’s bedspread delicately, hoping not to disturb the state of the place too much. 

“No wonder you left your calculator,” Hwa mutters. “How do you find anything in here?” The floor is clear, he’ll give Joong that. However, any surface viable for carrying an object is covered in dozens. He’s got tons of books stacked up on his desk. There’s no way he needs all of those for his classes, Hwa thinks. Between the books, papers jut out, and supplies are scattered on top of his desk.

“It’s gotta be on the desk, right?” Seonghwa wonders aloud. He carefully scoots stuff to the side, hoping his delicate hand won’t disturb anything too much. Unfortunately, his effort is for naught. Upon lifting a book to check under it, Seonghwa somehow manages to knock another book off of the desk with his elbow.

“Oh- Fuck,” Hwa hisses to himself. He groans and picks the felled volume off of the floor. His eyebrows raise. “Sketch journal,” He reads out loud.

Uh-oh.

A sinful urge itches inside his head. He knows he needs to respect boundaries and respect Hongjoong’s things. The right thing to do would be to simply place the sketchbook back where it belongs, on top of the desk, and pretend that he never, ever touched it. So that’s what he’s going to do.

Unless…

Hongjoong had been so protective of it before. Why? Seonghwa ponders. What sort of naughty, forbidden artstuffs do the pages of the sketch journal hold? Seonghwa’s almost certain that it’s just, well, sketches. Hongjoong is probably embarrassed because he doesn’t think they’re good enough to be seen by others. They’re probably great, though. 

The blond casts a cursory glance around. He’s alone. Of course he’s alone - why wouldn’t he be? Even so, he can’t help the paranoia nagging him. It’s like he’s got an angel on one shoulder and a devil on another. The angel tells him to put the damn sketchbook down and be a decent human being. It reminds him that respecting boundaries isn’t exclusive to a person but extends to their things as well. The devil urges him to take just a teensy, weensy peek. After all, how much harm could a single look do? Hongjoong wouldn’t even know. Seonghwa would put the book back and return to the room with a calculator. End of story.

Seonghwa tosses the book around in his hands. It’s surprisingly hefty for its size - a standard printer sheet size. The cover is faded, the pages are yellowed, and there are all sorts of knicks and scratches bruising the surface. This sketchbook has been places and seen things. Things that Seonghwa has not. Things that Hongjoong thought so important he had to immortalize them in graphite on paper.

The devil wins out, and Seonghwa cracks the book open.

Hwa’s smug grin of satisfaction falls instantly. He expected a drawing, but what he’s looking at is… A newspaper clipping? Not one cut in a particular shape or artfully laid out. It’s just pasted there, a plain block. The article is about a decade old. In bold serif text, the tagline reads: “Missing Child Found In Sewer Pipe After Five Years: First responders call him a ‘miracle child’...”.

Seonghwa pouts. He’d expected more than just a random article. It sort of fits the bill, Hwa thinks. Hongjoong loves the strange and unfathomable. Miracles seem up his alley. Seonghwa turns to another page to see a map. It’s old-fashioned, a far departure from the urbanized web maps that Hwa’s used to seeing. It’s got curvilinear lines all over it and different tones to distinguish the peaks and valleys. There are a few unintelligible scribbles on it. Notes?

“Is this geomatics stuff?” Seonghwa asks nobody in particular. He flips to another page. About a dozen star maps are pasted across the two pages he navigates to. They appear to be the sky from different vantage points, and each bears scribbles and highlights. “Oh, pretty,” Hwa coos. He tries to analyze the cluster, but a scribbled note in red pen interrupts his thoughts. His heart stops beating for a second.

“The second star to the right,” Hwa mutters. His eyes dart across the page, checking each chart. Every star map has one thing in common: the second star to the right is circled, highlighted, or has an arrow pointing to it. A couple have all three, and a few don frantically scratched question marks.

  
The second star to the right.

That’s familiar.

That is familiar.

But why? How?

The sketch journal is disappointing, to say the least. It’s more of an unsettling, free-form sort of notebook than a sketchbook. Hwa rationalizes that it has something to do with geomatics, turning to another page. 

This one is perhaps the strangest yet. It appears to be notes about… A person? Maybe someone important in the geomatics field. A timeline of the woman’s life is laid out from birth to present. Oddly enough, none of her achievements are linked to geomatics at all. The information is basic and strangely personal. She gave birth to a son in this year, had a son by another man that many years later, worked here and there - never is geomatics, engineering, surveying or any of the sort mentioned. The careers listed are basic, low-wage jobs at chain stores or restaurants. Nothing fancy. Did she do geomatics in her spare time? There’s a picture of her, but it doesn’t really glean much. It looks like it was printed out from her facebook page.

Hwa skims the sketch journal a little more, and it’s more of the same. Vague, strange stuff, some of it completely unrelated to geomatics. Is this his personal journal? But that doesn’t make sense. A few words repeat themselves, stuff that makes no sense: the second star to the right, magic, “Maddox”, fairies, Neverland, Neverland, Neverland. What is he talking about? Why the fascination with stars, the enigmatically notated maps to random places, and all the news clippings? Even more unsettling is how manic the journal seems. Everything is scribbled and scrawled. There’s a sort of shakiness to the lines that tells Seonghwa that whoever had written in it was not in a clear state of mind. Maybe that’s the real reason this is so strange, Hwa tells himself. Maybe Hongjoong had just found this. Maybe he’s holding onto it.

Seonghwa shakes his head, “Just one more page.” He tells himself. Frowning, he flips a page too fast, and a loose picture nearly flies out. Seonghwa catches it and turns to the page it’d been on. His heart seizes, and he does a double-take, brows furrowed and gut-twisting with unease. He stares at the aged school photograph he’d saved, and it stares back.

_ He _stares back.

Because it’s him, in the picture.

Him at about nine or ten years old.

Why does he have this?

Seonghwa briefly shakes the weird thoughts from his head. An ill sensation crawls up from his roiling guts, staining his heart and constricting his throat with nerves. No, he tells himself. This isn’t weird. Hongjoong probably suckered San or Yeosang into handing him over an elementary photo for blackmail. Sure, none of Hwa’s college friends have actually seen that picture (let held it in their hands) but that seems logical.

Hwa’s eyes dart to the page the picture had come from, and his blood freezes. He can read the text plain as day: “Park Seonghwa - now 21”. That’s his name on the page. And his age. Next to the words, scribbled in red pen, is a little heart. The angel on Seonghwa’s shoulder almost begs him to stop, but his traitorous eyes can’t cease. He’s started reading and he can’t stop, why can’t he stop? He wishes he could. He wishes he could just shut the book and pretend none of this had ever happened. But how can he when he’s staring at a concisely annotated timeline of his entire life up to this point?

“What the fuck?” Seonghwa reads out as tears prick his eyes. It starts from his birth - literally his birth. His birth date is written out time, location, hospital, star sign. The timeline’s next point is his preschool. His fucking preschool. After that it goes on to chronicle his elementary school along with general grade averages, extra-curriculars, close friends. Close friends?

“What- what the fuck?” Hwa runs a hand through his hair. Is this real? What is he looking at?

Why does Hongjoong have a notebook chronicling his entire life? There are details in on those pages that Seonghwa knows he hasn’t told the other. Things like his deepest fears, his most devastatingly embarrassing moments, the rough patch his parents had that almost led to them separating - all of it is there in plain black and white, dated and placed neatly in a line. There are notes regarding his various hair colors, his hobbies, when he came out. It’s all there. His entire life. 

“Wh- Why- Why did you- Wh-?” Seonghwa turns the page and there’s more. Another cluster of pictures fall out from between the pages. A couple more school photos and a fairly recent one printed out. “That was… Beginning of last semester.” Seonghwa chokes when he sees his selfie from just months prior looking up at him, cat filter and all. Reading the page, there’s more - why is there more? Dread and terror tug Seonghwa’s heart further and further down. 

The proceeding pages continue to explicitly detail his academic history, including, of course, his college. When he’d started being an RA. His dorm room. His class schedules for each semester. Seonghwa’s on the verge of throwing up as is, and when he starts reading notes about his mom, his brother, his entire family, that’s when the panic really sets in. Seonghwa furiously starts flipping pages, wondering what the hell else is in this thing.

All he gets is more creepy, enigmatic bullshit. Lots of pages are primarily blank space. They might have one or two phrases, then nothing. He takes in bits and pieces here and there: “lost boys” “likes splitting apples” “laughs” “dimples” “Neverland” “good flyer” “fairy?” “Maddox” “What is fairy dust?” “Neverland” “sewage pipe??” “magical energy” “Neverland”.

“Neverland”.

That place keeps coming up.

“Neverland”.

There it is again.

“Neverland”.

Seonghwa knows that place. He knows it from somewhere, but where?

“Neverland.”

A hazy, distant memory drifts into his head. Somewhere tropical and dreamy. Mermaids. Pirates. Waterfalls and flowers.

“Neverland.”

“Hey, babe-” Hongjoong’s voice carries into the room from the suite.

Seonghwa’s blood petrifies. With each step he hears come closer, his throat constricts, and his gut wrenches. He curses internally, searching his jumbled thoughts desperately for an answer, a solution, a rationalization. Any reason other than the most logical one - that this is Hongjoong’s doing. That Hongjoong isn’t a sweet guy who’s into him, but an insane stalker. Had he deliberately gone so far as to model himself after Seonghwa’s imaginary friend knowing the effect it would have? More crucially:

  
What’s he going to do when he finds out Seonghwa knows?

Hwa is too frozen with fear to move, and he tenses when the other walks in.

“-turns out I was sitting on my calculator the whole time!” Hongjoong giggles. No, Seonghwa tells himself, don’t fall for those wiles. “Sorry for making you get up, but, um, it’s super cute that you’d search through all that stuff for m-”

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asks, voice strained and shaky. He holds up the sketch journal with the page open to his entry. “What’s this?”

Hongjoong’s grin drops, and all of the joy visibly floods out of him. He swallows nervously and fidgets with his fingers. The redhead almost appears to choke as he attempts to find words. Seonghwa’s gut reaction is to feel bad, guilty, but he stuffs that down, reminding himself that Hongjoong is not the person he thought.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong replies in a low, nervous tone. “I can explain-”

“You wanna explain how you’ve been stalking me and my family, for what? Months? Did you- did you set your targets on me start of the semester or was it earlier, because this- this childhood stuff?”

“Did you read anything else?” Hongjoong asks, gaze fixed on the ground.

“Did I-” Hwa snaps his lips shut for a second just to stop himself from yelling. “That’s what you have to say for yourself? You won’t even deny it?”

Hongjoong’s mouth flaps open and closed, “I- I-” His eyes look wet with tears which is ridiculous to Seonghwa. As if he’s the victim. Disgust twists in Seonghwa’s guts, mixing with despair and anger. “Seonghwa,” Joong half-cries. “It’s real.”

“What?”

“Neverland is _ real _ ,” Hongjoong insists, eyes wet. Fuck. He’s insane. “ _ All of it _ is real- Seonghwa, you have to believe me.”

“I- I’m done,” Seonghwa throws the book down angrily and starts charging out. 

“Seonghwa it all happened!” Hongjoong grabs the other by the wrist. “Please, I- I admit to- to studying you, but- but that’s because I needed to find you-”

“Let go of me. Don’t touch me!” Seonghwa growls, snatching his wrist back.

“Oh come on, Hwa, I know you feel it, too. The magic. There are holes in your memory, aren’t there? And things you can’t explain. I bet you get weird dreams, too. And- and deja vu.”

“Get away from me,” Seonghwa responds coldly. He doesn’t even give a damn about the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Hongjoong grabs Seonghwa’s shoulder and forcefully turns him, “Seonghwa,” He looks the blond in the eyes, pleading, “Please, just entertain the thought that- that maybe, just maybe, there is- is more than meets the eye to the world. Think about it.”

Seonghwa shoves the other roughly. He ignores the twinge of guilt that knocks at his chest when the other’s small body stumbles back, nearly falling. Once again, he reminds himself: this is a stalker. A criminal. A nefarious person who just wants to possess and manipulate him.

“You’re lucky I don’t get a restraining order,” Seonghwa responds darkly. His nostrils flare and he squares up, standing tall to tower over the other - this time with full intent on intimidation. “Stay away from me.”

“Are you serious?” Hongjoong lets out a wry laugh. 

“You see me in the hall, walk in the opposite direction-”

“God- Why does it fucking pain you to even consider that there’s more to this than what’s on the surface?”

“-you do not speak to me, you don’t speak _ about _ me, and if I catch you talking to any of my friends, I’ll see to it personally that you get expelled.”

The redhead stands his ground defiantly in spite of the fact that he, too, is crying, “I’m gonna find it, Seonghwa. With or without you.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Neverland,” Hongjoong replies. “It’s real, and I’m gonna find it.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. It’s almost pitiful how far gone the other is. So much storms through his head that he can’t possibly fathom, process, or comprehend. To think just hours ago he’d been flying high on ecstasy, thinking about how grateful he was to have Hongjoong. Now the sight of the redhead makes him feel ill and bitter. No longer interested in hearing the other’s lunatic rambling, Seonghwa takes his leave.

“Get help, Hongjoong.”

Those are his last words to the redhead before he bolts out of the suite and into his bedroom.

He throws the redhead’s shit off of his bed. That can be taken care of later. Now, Seonghwa is too confused and angry and exhausted. He buries his face in his pillow and sobs himself to sleep.

* * *

Seonghwa dives for the forest clearing the second it comes into view. He sprints into the den, a sweaty, sticky mess. He doesn’t even care, though. His heart is beating at the speed of light, and his throat feels all tight and itchy. He clutches the drawstring he’d packed with medicine stuff in a vice as he steps into the hideout.

“H-How is he?” Hwa asks the lost boys, winded. He’s met with a collection of dismayed frowns and wet eyes.

“I… Am fine,” A hoarse voice from the end of the den responds. 

  
Seonghwa rushes over to the bed cove at the very end, “Hongjoong! You’re still in bed?”

“I’m fine. Just extra sleepy lately, that’s all,” The redhead replies. He’s swaddled in a blanket from his toes all the way up to his neck. Maddox sits on the pillow right by him, flashing him dirty looks.

Seonghwa huffs with annoyance and turns to the lost boys putzing around him, “You!” He points to the tallest, “Pick oranges if you see them, we’ll make juice. You!” He picks out the other tallest one, “Help him! You, fetch me cold spring water and you get some water over the fire for tea. You two, see if you can’t trade some of our jewel stash for some medicinal herbs from the tribe!”

The lost boys look, well, lost for a second. They blink confusedly at the eldest.

Hongjoong coughs out, “H-He’s the leader in my absence. Just do what he says, or he’ll hang you from the trees by your underwear.”

With that terrifying prospect as motivation, the lost boys run off to perform their duties. Seonghwa can’t help giggling a bit at that. Even though he’s the oldest, it’s Hongjoong that manages to terrify them in the way only a leader can. He sort of envies that trait, but he supposes with leadership comes a burden. Truthfully, Seonghwa is relieved he’s not the leader of the lost boys. It’s sort of nice to have Hongjoong to rely on. 

Hongjoong, on the other hand, is stubborn and doesn’t like relying on anyone. That makes him extra annoying when he’s sick.

“I can help with the tea,” Joong says, sitting up. “I’ve been in bed long enough, so-”

“No!” “Ring-ring!” Both Seonghwa and Maddox scold the leader at the same time. Seonghwa pushes Hongjoong down by the shoulders while Maddox twinkles angrily. Hwa doesn’t speak fairy, per se, but he’s got a feeling that Maddox is yelling a few curse words.

“Seonghwa, I’m not a baby. I’ll be fine,” Hongjoong frowns. “You don’t need to take care of me. Nobody does. I’ve been enough of a pain as it is.”

“With all due respect,” Seonghwa replies cooly, “Shut up.”

“Wh-What?!” Hongjoong’s eyes blow wide open with shock. “Did you just tell me to shut up?” He pouts. “That’s not very nice…”

“Stop playing the tough guy and let people help you already.”

“But I am a tough guy.”

“Yeah, well tough guys get sick, too, dummy,” Seonghwa leans forward and presses a hand on Hongjoong’s forehead. “See, you’re burning up.”

“I bet you’re making that up. How can you even tell?”

“I just can, okay? Now, I brought some medicines from home,” Hwa removes his drawstring bag and rifles through the stuff he’d brought. There’s some headache pills, cough syrup, cough drops, sleepytime tea, ginger candies and some sort of vitamin C supplement his mom would give him.

“Yuck! Medicine,” Hongjoong’s face squashes. “You don’t seriously think I’m gonna take medicine, do you? I’m gonna be fine.”

“You’re gonna have it and you’ll like it.”

“Ew. No I’m not.”

“Yes you will. Or else.”

“What? Or else what? Are you threatening me to… Help me?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Ugh- Seonghwa!” Hongjoong whines.

True to his word, he heavily resists the medication. He turns his nose up and clamps his mouth shut when the spoon of cough syrup gets near his mouth. Seonghwa and Maddox have to actually hold Hongjoong’s mouth open to get it down his throat. That, apparently, is enough to exhaust the poor leader’s low energy reserves. He nods off while Seonghwa reads him a few stories.

Seonghwa sighs. The sight in front of him is pretty sad. It’s not nice to see Hongjoong, not himself, all tired and sick and sleepy. He hopes Hongjoong gets better soon. The thought consumes his mind for the entire day and the days following.

* * *

The dreary day outside reflects how Seonghwa feels in. It’s sort of a mess of half-rain, half-snow that results in nothing but an ugly, dirty, slushy gray mess everywhere the eye can see. He steps into his childhood bedroom tiredly, throwing his bookbag and sack of clothes in unceremoniously. He hasn’t been able to think straight ever since finding Hongjoong’s notebook. Every time he steps out, he’s scared he’ll run into the redhead. Even a hint of red hair sends Seonghwa reeling in the opposite direction. He thought he saw Nayeon in a dining hall a couple of days later and literally ran. As he sprinted away, deciding that dinner can wait, he even wondered: was she in on it? The morning after, Seonghwa gathered everything Hongjoong had left and simply set it down in front of the suite door. When he returned later that day, the things were gone. Seonghwa assumes they’d found their rightful place.

“Sweetie,” Seonghwa’s mom darkens his doorway. “Oh- Sweetie, why don’t you turn a light on? It’s so rainy outside.”

“Tired,” Seonghwa grunts.

“Sweetie… Is something the matter?”

“Tired,” Seonghwa says again.

“Well, just because you’re here all weekend doesn’t mean you have to wait to do your laundry,” His mom says in a chipper tone.

Even after returning the redhead’s stuff, Seonghwa still found himself thinking nonstop about Hongjoong. Seeing his egg chair made him remember how he sat Hongjoong down right there when he had gotten harassed. He thought about how Hongjoong would flop across his bed, groaning about his day. He thought about all the movie nights they’d had in that room and the little noises Hongjoong made when he got flustered. It quickly amounted to too much, and Seonghwa couldn’t take it anymore. He called his mom, making up a lie about all the laundry machines being down for the weekend. She predictably freaked out, got angry about where tuition dollars go and insisted he come home for the weekend. For the first time in a while, Seonghwa felt grateful for her doting overprotective streak.

“Kay,” Seonghwa grunts.

His mom sighs, “This early in the semester and you’re already this beat up?” She shakes her head, “What are they doing to you college kids these days?”

“Torture.”

“Okay. Well, try to be up from your nap by dinner time my tortured soul.”

“Kay.” 

She pads away, leaving the door open like she always does. Annoyed, Seonghwa jumps onto his feet and slams it closed. Feeling an immediate jolt of guilt and terror, he shouts an apology to his mom, saying it was a mistake. She doesn’t follow up the apology which bodes well for him. He flicks the lights off and throws himself onto the bed so he can resume his pity party.

It’s not something he does often or, really, at all, so he feels as if he’s earned this one. After all, how normal is it for someone to find out their beloved boyfriend is actually a crazy stalker? Who knows what other dirt Hongjoong has on him. The thought makes Seonghwa vibrate with anxiety. No, he realizes, that vibration isn’t his body. It’s his phone.

Seonghwa groans, wringing a hand down his face. It’s yet another notification from his friends. He’d kindly informed the groupchat that he and Hongjoong aren’t a thing anymore. Too mortified and shocked by what he’d seen, he didn’t elaborate. All he told them was that he can’t see Hongjoong anymore. It’s the truth - just a small part of it. Hwa scrolls his texts with a frown. They’re all pretty much the same:

**Sannie☀️**: seonghwa pls pls pls talk to someone :((

**Mingi**: hwa are you okay? If you wanna talk lemme know

**🍎Jongho🍎**: should i beat him up???

**Yeosang**: please dont just block us out. We love you. Please talk to us. 

**woowoo**: hey how are you feeling today?

**Yunh🐶**: just reminding you youre important and loved !!

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. They’ve all been left on read at this point. He loves them, he really does, but his friends are a lot. They’re very vibrant and so are their opinions. He can’t handle that right now. Just as he’s about to throw his phone across the room, another notification pops up.

**Yeosang**: hwa :( did something bad happen? Youre usually not like this

Annoyed, Seonghwa seethes as he taps out a dismissive response:

(You): no

(You): nothing happened

**Yeosang**: u know we all texted him too

**Yeosang**: hes our friend too

“Fuck,” Seonghwa hisses. What did that freak say? 

(You): what did he tell u?

He hopes that Yeo remembers _ they _were friends first.

**Yeosang** sent an image.

Seonghwa heaves a sigh a relief. Screenshots. Hwa knew he could count on Yeo to come through. He opens the message, eager to see what manipulative bullshit the stalker spun. Hwa’s brows furrow. The screenshot reads:

(You): hey, hongjoong i hate to bring this up but um

(You): can you tell me what happened between you and hwa?

(You): he won’t say anything about it, but he seems devastated

(You): i know this is none of my business & i’m sorry if this is completely uncalled for

(You): but i’m worried and i just don’t get it

(You): hwa never told me about any problems…

**Hongjoong (GAIF):** I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this. Don’t contact me.

That’s it. Seonghwa frowns. He’d expected something more. He’s not sure what, but just _ more _ . His heart aches just seeing the name written out. It’s twisted just how deep Hongjoong sunk his claws in. Seonghwa can’t even tell the truth. Some fucked up part of him still feels inclined to protect the other. Part of him hopes he’ll wake up from a fever dream and everything will be alright. Or maybe he’ll get the psychological help he so clearly needs. Then Hongjoong will be his totally normal (well, not _ normal _but) loveable boyfriend.

A sob seizes Seonghwa’s body at the thought. He buries his face in his pillow and rides out the painful, body wrenching sensation. There’s a pathetic little part of him that wants nothing more than to have his boyfriend back. A bit of remorse lingers in spite of the fact that he’d learned something very necessary. But what if he hadn’t? What if he’d minded his own business and just looked for the damn calculator? To think, he could be blissfully ignorant, cuddling with Hongjoong under a blanket or getting a cup of coffee. Sure, Hongjoong would probably snap at some point and, like, tie him up or something, but at least the _ now _wouldn’t be so excruciating. 

A message lights up Hwa’s phone, reminding him he’d been talking to someone.

  
**Yeosang**: been on read ever since

**Yeosang**: you still there?

**Yeosang**: ????

(You): it’s between us

(You): i’ll talk about it

(You): just cant right now

  
**Yeosang**: :///

**Yeosang**: fine

“Thank god,” Seonghwa murmurs to himself. He sighs and shuts his eyes, cozying up in the comforting familiarity of his old blankets and plushies. His phone buzzes again - this time a rhythmic, ceaseless kind of buzz. A call. Hwa sniffles and wipes his nose as he answers, ready to chew Yeosang out.

“I told you, I’m not talking about it, Yeo.”  
  
“Seonghwa,” The voice on the other line is not Yeosang’s.

Seonghwa’s blood chills and he sits up, snarling, “I thought I told you to delete this number.”

Hongjoong replies, “Seonghwa, please, just hear me out. If you would let me explain-”

“The notebook laying out my life from birth to now was pretty self-explanatory,” Hwa cuts the other off coldly. 

“Seonghwa… I am putting aside my pride to _ beg _ you-”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Seonghwa, I… I’m not gonna give up on you.”

Fuck, why did he have to go and say that? Seonghwa laments. Even worse is the fact that those words have such an insane effect on him. 

“You’re- you’re insane,” Hwa pushes the words out through the thick cries wanting to crawl out from his lungs.

“I promise-”

“You promised you’d leave me alone.”

“-I’m not giving up on you, Seonghwa-”

“Delete this number.”

“-not this time.”

“Fuck you!” Seonghwa shouts, tapping the red icon on the screen furiously until the call goes dead. It’s too late, though. He’s already crying again. Over a stalker. He feels ashamed. His head and heart are in complete misalignment. One is trying desperately to exert dominance and shove Hongjoong out of sight, out of mind. The other part yearns for the stalker in spite of logic.

Hwa pleads with his achey body to just pass out already. He tosses and turns in his bed, hugging his dragon plushies close, but nothing really does it. Irritated, Seonghwa sits up and takes inventory of the soft stuff atop his bed. There are a few black dragon plushies, a couple of pillows, and a duvet - a lot of soft comforts, but something seems to be missing. Seonghwa purses his lips with displeasure when he realizes his old favorite blanket isn’t there. 

It’s the ultimate comfort item. He remembers wrestling for days before his first semester of university with whether or not to bring it. Ultimately, he thought it best to leave that artifact of childhood behind. While he’s miraculously managed to go on without it, he never allowed his mom to get rid of it (which is fine, because she’s sort of a nostalgic hoarder anyway). 

“It’s gotta be in the closet,” Hwa sighs, resignedly flicking on the light switch. He throws open his closet doors and starts searching. “Where are y- fuck!” A sharp pain stabs his toe. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck!” Seonghwa reels. There are so many intense pains a person can feel, yet none quite compare to unexpectedly stubbing one’s toe. Hwa’s face squashes with pain as a litany of curse words spill from his mouth.

He leers down at his feet, wondering who the culprit is. His brows raise curiously when he sees a pile of books. Why is there a heap of books at his feet? Suddenly, the memory of Christmas crops up in his head. He’d dropped an entire bin of books onto his floor and never bothered actually picking them up. Instead, he’d swept them into the closet, swearing up and down he’d take care of them before moving back to the dorms.

Seonghwa huffs annoyedly. This is a bad week, he tells himself. The entire week is just cursed. He kicks the books aside annoyedly, searching the linens on the shelf above for his beloved blanket. Yet again, a little impulse bubbles up in his head. It prompts him to glance at his feet again and see precisely what book he’d bumped his toe on. It reads in sloppy letters:

  
“ADVENTURE JOURNAL”.

His heart drops.

Thoughts of Hongjoong flood into his head. His rambling, his frantic notes, his red hair.

His red hair.

Something possesses Seonghwa to bend over and pick the thing up. As if he’s in a trance, Seonghwa slowly turns the pages, searching for the one he’d seen before. His heart hammers loudly in his ears, and he bites his lip in nervous anticipation with each page turn closer.

“No!” Seonghwa shakes himself out of it. He throws the journal across the room snappily. Wringing a hand through his hair, he chides himself, “What the fuck are you doing?” Turning to that page is just asking for pain, and he’s had enough agony to last him through the semester. Maybe through college. Letting out a heavy breath, Seonghwa gives up on his mission to find his blanket and stumbles back toward his bed. 

“Wh- Shit!” Hwa curses again when he slips on the book he’d just thrown. Figures. Just another stroke of shitty luck to add to his incredibly cursed day, week, month even. Seonghwa glares down at the thing as if it’ll apologize, but his scowl drops off immediately. 

When he threw it, somehow, the book opened to that page.

It’s as if the universe itself is taunting him. The firetruck red hair, the little yellow sparkles dotting the page, the black outlines and big pink smile. It’s him. Fuck. It’s him. Another round of tears pool in Seonghwa’s eyes as he tiredly bends over to pick the damn thing up. All the dread and regret has effectively exhausted him, and it’s painful to find himself brought to tears _ again _ because of Kim Hongjoong. He’s sick of it. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, Seonghwa can’t stop himself from staring at the page.

Graphite and blue lines warp and distort beneath the teardrops coming from above. Seonghwa gazes at the drawing like it’ll give him an answer. All he gets is the lifeless smile of a paper boy.

“Fuck you,” Seonghwa talks to the page as if it’s Hongjoong himself. He rips it out roughly and throws the book down. “I’m- I’m done with you-” He’s fairly certain that when he looks back on this, he’ll cringe from just how dramatic he’s being. But a part of him theorizes he needs this. Tearing up the symbol, the representation of the redhead is a start. It symbolizes a farewell. A good fucking riddance to the insane stalker bastard who’d followed him all the way to university for some reason Hwa doesn’t want to know.

Seonghwa poises his fingers to tear the page. He starts with a little rip just at the top. It doesn’t make him feel as good as he thought it would. He wonders if maybe it’ll feel better when the entire thing is done. He considers tearing it slow, watching that paper boy slowly come apart, but ultimately it seems better to just do it at once - like ripping off a band-aid.

  
Taking a deep breath, Seonghwa bites down on his lips and starts tearing. He tears, tears, tears until the rip just through the middle just grazes the top of the drawing’s red head. Hwa gives the drawing one last look, as if to say the last goodbye. He bids farewell to that bright red hair and those rosy pink lips, to the sparkling fairy dust and the little birthmark on his neck.

Seonghwa stops.

He blinks confusedly, holding the page right up to his face.

The little birthmark on his neck.

The little birthmark on his neck.

“No,” Seonghwa mutters to himself. “_ No _.”

He does not remember ever, ever meeting Kim Hongjoong in his lifetime. His mom only knows Hongjoong the imaginary friend and Hongjoong the college friend. Not once did she mention a real boy named Hongjoong. Hwa knows the redhead well enough to know that the two didn’t grow up near one another. Their schools are in different towns, and Seonghwa can’t for the life of him recall seeing any kid with red hair in any of his clubs or sports.

Hwa almost trips over his feet as he lunges toward his bed. He digs his phone out from the pile of plush and pillow, frenziedly unlocking it. After making too many fidgety attempts at the lock code, he finally gets in and pounds the icon for his photo gallery. In his throes of despair, he’d yet to be able to stomach the task of deleting all Hongjoong things off of his phone. Scrolling furiously, Seonghwa taps the first photo of the redhead he can find.

“No,” Hwa murmurs to himself. The redhead’s wearing a turtleneck. He searches for another. The first thing he finds is a video. Uncaring, he taps play. It’s from the previous semester. The memory pains him to relive, but he watches determinedly.

Hongjoong sits still, focused intently on his laptop. The two of them were just studying in a dorm common area, Hwa remembers that. The redhead wearing a tank top and sweats along with some clear frame glasses. Seonghwa recalls texting Yeosang paragraphs about the simple look. Hwa dashes the tangent from his head and watches the video closely.

“Wh- Are you filming me?” Hongjoong’s voice sounds slightly staticky through the filter of Hwa’s phone. That alone still makes Hwa’s guts turn. He ignores it. 

Seonghwa, from behind the camera laughs, “Maybe.”

“What- Stop it!”

“Why?” Seonghwa zooms in.

  
“Oh my god- do not zoom in on me!” Hongjoong moves to cover his face.

“You look beautiful today.”

“Fuck off!” Hongjoong whines. Shit, it’s cute. 

“I’m just capturing your natural essence.”

“Literally why?” Hongjoong leaps forward, and Seonghwa pauses.

His heart stops.

He tosses the phone onto his desk and sets the drawing down next to it.

They match up.

  
The birthmarks match up.

They match up perfectly; they’re both right there on the right side of his neck (left if someone’s facing him forward). The perfect little dark dot, the one spot on his otherwise flawless skin. But it doesn’t make sense. Seonghwa hunches over his desk, gnawing on his lower lip as he thinks about it. He’d been functioning over the assumption that Hongjoong had somehow modeled himself after Seonghwa’s beloved imaginary friend.

But how would he even do that?

In all the notes Seonghwa saw, not one mentioned an imaginary friend (or Hongjoong at all). How would Hongjoong have seen the drawing? Would he have been clever enough to replicate a birthmark?

The thing is, even if he did try to replicate it, Seonghwa would be able to tell. He’s been in close contact with that skin. He stared at it and fantasized about it more than he really should have. He even grazed his teeth along it and pressed kisses on that exact birthmark. There’s no way it’s fake. Tattoo ink doesn’t look like that, and it sure as hell isn’t makeup or henna.

  
What are the odds that Hongjoong has the exact same birthmark that his imaginary friend did?

And where did this imaginary friend come from, anyway? Why can’t Seonghwa remember him?

Impulsively, Seonghwa rushes out of his room and downstairs. He finds his mom into the kitchen and unceremoniously drops an interrogation on her.

“Hey, mom?” He starts, tapping his toe nervously.

“Yes, dear?” She doesn’t bother looking up from her work on the stove. Smells like jjajangmyeon - yum.

“Hey, did I- did I have a friend named Hongjoong in elementary school? Like, um, maybe ages nine, ten, eleven… Twelve, even?”

She chuckles and shakes her head, “No, dear. He was an imaginary friend, remember?”

“But- but there was never a… A real boy with that name, right?”

“Not that I know of. Not in your school or any of your clubs,” She shakes her head. “I thought we went over this. What’s got you so curious? Is this about your friend Hongjoong back at college?”

“U-Uh, yeah. Sort of,” Seonghwa’s voice strains in his attempts to sound cool and not bordering hysterical. “He, um, it’s funny, he says he remembers me from- from childhood. Like he knew me.”

“Sounds like he’s pulling your leg,” His mom tuts bluntly.

“You think that I, um, maybe I met him at the park or something?” Seonghwa asks.

“Sweetie, you never went to the park,” His mom laughs. “You know that.” He does know that, but he was hoping that maybe his memory wasn’t right.

His mom elaborates, “No, during those years you always kept to yourself. You played a lot of video games in your room. Shut yourself up in there for hours… Sometimes you’d go out to the backyard, but you never really went _ out _ to play. Not that I let you- it’s not safe out there for a boy to just be running around without parental supervision! Wait- You don’t resent me for that, do you?” She asks half-jokingly. Seonghwa knows that she actually means it, though.

“No,” Hwa shakes his head. He sighs, pacing over to his mother’s side to hug her from behind. He presses a kiss on her head and smiles, “I think you did a great job with me.”

“Oh, good. Last semester you were so hard to get a hold of, I was afraid you’d decided to abandon me!”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I’m sorry,” He apologizes sheepishly. “I’m gonna go up and nap a bit more.”

“Alright, hon. I’ll call you down when it’s finished.”

Hwa gives his mom another kiss before running back upstairs to his room. He strides over to his desk again and wakes his phone up. For a while, he just stares down at the comparison of the two side by side. It can’t be, but… What if it is?

  
Hongjoong’s words ring through his head: “ just entertain the thought that- that maybe, just maybe, there is more than meets the eye to the world”. 

Is he really going to follow the words of a stalker?

Conflict toils in Seonghwa’s chest. His heart writhes in pain, and the logical part of him wonders if entertaining this line of thought is just a coping mechanism. Is he really going to entertain some delusional train of thought to justify wanting Hongjoong back? But there’s another part of him, too that is completely and utterly baffled by the facts in front of him. Ignoring what had transpired between them, ignoring the entirety of their friendship and relationship, there are things here that do not make sense. Period.

Seonghwa throws himself into his desk chair and taps his foot. He thinks about it. He thinks and thinks and thinks. The blond tries to remove himself from the situation and look at what he’s found out.

Hongjoong knows things about him. All the little remarks he’s made surface in Hwa’s mind. Hongjoong once said he likes Hwa’s hair better black - but Seonghwa’s been blond ever since they met. Back then Hwa wrote it off as social media stalking, but what if he knew from experience? And his parkour hobby, what is that about? The time Hongjoong jumped off a building but emerged from behind a dumpster completely fine. Was Seonghwa going crazy, or did that really happen?

And now the birthmarks. The perfectly matching birthmarks. 

Seonghwa grabs the journal off the floor and flips through it again. Last time he’d skimmed it, he never went past the Hongjoong entry. Now, he makes sure to go straight to the latter half of the journal, scanning furiously. Words jump out - familiar words: “lost boys”, “Neverland” - fuck, Neverland - “fairy dust”, “magic”, “Hongjoong”.

“Hongjoong”.

“Hongjoong”.

Hwa slams the journal shut. This is his journal from a decade ago, from a time long before he knew Kim Hongjoong, the redhead across the hall. Yet the content isn’t just eerily similar to that of Hongjoong’s notes. Some of it is almost exactly the same. Obviously, Hongjoong’s notations are different, but the crossover is undeniable. How?

_ How _?

Seonghwa hasn’t even touched the journal in ten years. There’s no way it’s left that bin since. His childhood home hasn’t been broken into nor have his parents hosted any strange guests that would rifle through his belongings.

Nothing is adding up, and Seonghwa doesn’t know what to think anymore. Nerves an utter mess, he puts his phone to sleep and closes his journal. His brain is overfull. It had already been heavily weighed down with the breakup, with the discovery of Hongjoong’s sketch journal. Now, adding confusion, bafflement, self-doubt and complete loss on top of it is too much to handle.

The jumbled puzzle pieces gnaw at the back of Seonghwa’s head for the rest of the night.

* * *

A loud, ugly cough echoes through the hideout. Hongjoong curls up tighter in his blankets. Since the previous day, Hongjoong has only gotten worse. He’s only conscious for minutes at a time. When he is up, he can hardly speak. Most of his waking time is spent coughing. He doesn’t even insist that he’s fine now. When asked how he’s doing, all he does is let out a weak sort of hum.

Seonghwa is terrified. He takes on the role of the tough leader, trying to appear as chilled as possible, but on the inside, he wants to cry. Nothing is working. No amount of blankets or cool rags, no herbal tea or cold medicine. Nothing. Every day, Hongjoong looks paler and weaker. When the other boys are gone - off to try and find new medicines or fetch more water - that’s when Seonghwa allows himself to cry.

The black-haired boy sniffles softly. He’s barely left Joong’s side since discovering him in bed. Hongjoong stirs, and a weak groan leaves his lips. His eyes slowly blink open. They don’t look right. They’re hazy like there’s fog in Joong’s eyes.

“Hey,” Seonghwa tries to sound simultaneously cool and soothing. “How you feeling sleepyhead?”

“Tired,” Hongjoong whispers hoarsely. “Gonna go back to bed.”

“O-Okay. Yeah just, go ahead and get some sleep,” Seonghwa pats the other’s red hair. It’s extra tousled from the pillows. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mmkay. Thanks…” The redhead nods off again.

It shatters Seonghwa’s heart into a thousand tiny pieces. He sniffs loudly and throws himself over the other, squeezing him tight. He knows it’s ill-advised. He could get sick, too or even hurt Hongjoong. But he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Maddox mopily drapes his tiny body over Hongjoong’s shoulder. Seonghwa has gotten a little better at understanding him. He doesn’t understand Maddox the way Joong does, but he can sort of get the gist of things. Seonghwa frowns.

“Maddox, what are we gonna do?” Seonghwa asks sadly. The glowing fae strokes his chin with a thumb. His brows furrow and he pops into the air, floating around in thought. “Are you sure the fairies don’t have any magic potions or things that’ll work?”

Maddox heaves a sigh and nods. Fairies are enchanted creatures with a wide variety of powers. But none of them are miraculous healers, apparently. Maddox levitates idly as if he’s pacing the room in thought. It does little to comfort Seonghwa, who can’t take his eyes off of the sleeping redhead.

Hwa leans forward to check the other’s face. He’s almost the color of paper - even his lips which always look like he’d been biting on them. Hongjoong looks impossibly small underneath the heap of blankets. He almost disappears into all the thick cloth. Seonghwa fears that he will at the rate he’s going. They can barely rouse him enough to drink, let alone have him eat. If the fever doesn’t take him, malnourishment might. That line of thought almost makes Seonghwa cry, but he holds it in. He reminds himself he has to be strong - for Hongjoong and the lost boys.

Repeated ringing noises fill the little cove, causing Hwa to jolt from the shock. He looks around, but the culprit turns out to be right in front of his face. It’s Maddox. The fairy is saying something, but Seonghwa can’t exactly understand what.

“What- What is it, Maddox? Have you thought of something?” The boy asks hopefully.

The fairy nods enthusiastically. He zips over to Hongjoong and points to the sleeping redhead.

“Right, so, Hongjoong…” Seonghwa checks with the other to make sure he’s doing okay so far. Maddox nods.

Then, he points to himself. He makes a big swooping motion with his arm, and fairy dust spills out from his sparkling aura. 

“Uh… Is that a… A firework?” Seonghwa asks. Frustrated, Maddox’s optimistic expression falls, and he furrows his brows. He repeats the motion, pointing to Hongjoong. “Okay, so, Hongjoong… And you… You’re going to- Oh, no, not you?”

Hwa watches confusedly as the fairy attempts to illustrate his point. He glows extra bright, as bright as he possibly can, filling the room, and fairy dust gets everywhere.

“Don’t tell me you want Hongjoong to fly!” Seonghwa gasps, horrified. Maddox is officially grumpy at this point, and he huffs an audible groan. Pouting, the fairy crosses his arms and furrows his brows in thought. 

“I-I’m sorry, Maddox,” Hwa apologizes tearfully. Hongjoong may never wake up at this rate. The thought rudely imposes itself on the boy, and it ruins him on the inside. His stomach twists and aches from with despair just imagining the possibility of it. “I’m sorry, I wish I could do more,” Hwa apologizes again. He feels guilty, wondering if maybe he’d given Joong medicine sooner or dragged him to a doctor if things would be different. “If I could just wave a magic wand and make it better, I would.”

Maddox rings incessantly at that, pulling Hwa out of his sadness. Seonghwa sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Wait… What… What is it?” Seonghwa asks. “Don’t tell me… Is there a magic wand somewhere in Neverland we can use.”

The fairy insistently shakes his head. He holds up a finger immediately after to halt Hwa from saying anything before he finishes his thoughts. Maddox bites down on his lip and thinks a little more. After a second, the little fairy snaps, and he zips through the air above Hongjoong quickly. At first, Seonghwa is confused, but then he realizes that Maddox wasn’t just flying aimlessly.

He was writing something.

The trail of fairy dust left by the twinkling fae spells something out:

“Magic spell”.

“A- A magic spell?” Seonghwa tilts his head confusedly. “But, I don’t know any magic spells. Do you?” Maddox’s shoulders slump, and he shakes his head. Hwa’s face scrunches as he thinks about the idea. “I guess we’ve tried all sorts of other stuff already. Medicine, herbs, sleep… But we haven’t tried magic.”

Maddox nods, clasping his hands together hopefully.

“B-But, how am I supposed to know how to use magic? Or- or where to find something like a wand. What do I even need to use to cast a spell? What if it requires sacrifices.” 

Maddox shrugs, and Seonghwa sighs dejectedly.

“It’s not a bad idea, Maddox, but I don’t think any of us can do it. We don’t know the first thing about healing spells- or any magic spells for that matter,” Hwa mopes. The fairy shakes his head fervently. He zips over to the stack of books sitting on the edge of the bed. His face strains with effort as he lugs one over to Seonghwa.

“Hm? Is this a magic book?” The boy’s brows raise inquisitively. He relieves the fae of the hefty book and reads the cover. “Oh,” His heart falls. “Maddox, this is great and all, but I’m not sure how The Sleeping Beauty is gonna help us.”

Frustrated, the fairy flips the cover open in Seonghwa’s hands. He turns a few pages and points insistently at one of the passages.

“Maddox, now really isn’t the time for a sto- what’re you doing?” Maddox yanks roughly on Seonghwa’s hair, directing his line of sight to the open page. The tiny glowing man zooms over to the book again, using his entire body to gesture to the page.

Seonghwa pouts, “Ugh, fine. Okay, um it starts… Here we go,” He reads: “-the young prince falls onto his knees, stunned by the princess’s beauty. Though she is peacefully asleep, he knows from her aura that she is a kind, fair woman. His majesty knows in his heart that she is to be his queen. And so, utterly enchanted, he bends down to…” Seonghwa pauses. “To give her a kiss. When their lips touch, the magic of true love’s kiss lifts the curse. The princess wakes up, her eyes bright and happy…”

Maddox flits between paragraphs, emphatically pointing to the words “magic” and “wake up”. Seonghwa eyes the page again, then glances over to the pile on the edge of the bed.

“Maddox, I think… I think I’m gonna do some reading,” Seonghwa says. The fairy claps happily and twirls in the air. He’s so excited at the prospect of a solution that he even smooches Hwa on the cheek before tinkling off. With the departure of the fairy, the den gets quiet again.

Seonghwa gets cracking on the books. He rules out stuff like Hansel and Gretel or Treasure Island. Things like that don’t revolve around curses or afflictions to the person. When he gets his pile of do-reads together, Seonghwa starts at the top with The Princess and the Frog. At first, he’s quiet, but feeling lonely, he starts reading aloud. Maybe Hongjoong can hear him. If the redhead does hear anything, he doesn’t give any indication.

The stories are all sort of the same. The main character falls into some kind of trouble. They might have a little fight in them, but they all succumb to some sort of curse or another. The common thread linking all of these is the resolution. All of the problems end with a kiss. The Princess and the Frog, Beauty and the Beast, The Sleeping Beauty and Snow White - their path to a happy ending always ends up being forged with true love’s kiss.

Nervousness jumbles up Seonghwa’s insides. He gazes at Hongjoong’s lips and wonders: will true love’s kiss really save him?

Even if it is the answer, what can Seonghwa do about it? Hwa’s fingers graze his lips as he tries to think of a solution.

* * *

“Hello?” Seonghwa greets the person on the other end of the line brightly. 

“Yes, how can I help you today?” The secretary asks.

“Hello Miss Lee, this is Choi Mingi- we spoke earlier this morning?” Hwa nods to the cab driver as he steps out, giving a wave in thanks. 

“Oh, yes, Mr. Choi, are you nearby?”

“I am,” Seonghwa answers. He hoists his messenger bag onto his shoulder more snugly as he ascends the steps into the school building. Even though Seonghwa walks around a college campus day in and day out, standing in front of a high school exerts a sort of indescribable pressure even after all his years out. There’s an unspoken imposition that a high school building has. Even if one has absolutely no link or allegiance to said high school, something about being in the vicinity of one feels oppressive. It’s like it sends a person back to that time, reverting them back to the unsure kid they once were.

Hwa sighs heavily, and his breath fogs up in front of him. It’s a crappier day than the one before. The slush has frozen over, converting the sidewalks into a horrific ice rink of gunk. Gray clouds float low in the sky, assuring that only the slightest, saddest trickle of sunlight manages to escape the suffocating barrier.

“Can you just remind me of the guest procedure?” Hwa asks nervously.

“Of course,” The secretary chuckles. “Step inside and take the stairs to the right. When you’re up the stairs, take a left and follow signs for the main office. We’ll sign you in and get you a guest pass.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa answers. “I’ll be up shortly.”

“We look forward to meeting you, Mr. Choi. It’s not often that university organizations take such an interest in our alumni.”

“Yes, well, Hongjoong is a very special case. Speak to you soon,” Seonghwa replies. 

“Right. Buh-bye,” The secretary replies. 

“Mr. Choi” - Seonghwa gets a kick out of that. His trek a couple of hours away started in the morning. Unable to shake the previous night’s discoveries, Seonghwa took it upon himself to investigate. He started the way any person would: a google search. Much like before, all he found was frustration. His pinterest yields nothing more than further frustration. It’s nothing but repeating motifs of nature, glitter, and far away places.

The one thing Seonghwa did remember was Hongjoong’s high school. Thinking more about their conversations, Hwa realized: Hongjoong barely talked about his past. His high school is the one concrete link Seonghwa has to the enigma that is Kim Hongjoong. After a quick search, Hwa found their number and called them up. He posed as Choi Mingi (all the while apologizing to his friends silently) and told the secretary that he represented a fraternity and Kim Hongjoong wanted to pledge. Whipping up a tall tale about their selective fraternity Alpha Tau Zeta, he politely asked for any information and records he could on Kim Hongjoong. The secretary on the phone kindly informed him that they couldn’t release records nor would they fax or email any extracurricular, public information. Seonghwa half expected it and, resigned, asked if he could personally inspect public records such as yearbooks and newsletters. Seonghwa impulsively threw some clothes in the washer and put together his most pretentious, old-money outfit he could compose.

And so, “Choi Mingi” finds himself walking toward the office of a completely unfamiliar school an hour’s train ride away. Seonghwa’s heart remains perpetually lodged in his throat as he walks through the unfamiliar space. There’s nothing remarkable about the high school, really. There are bulletin boards plastered on the walls between lockers. Popouts boast the “student of the month” and advertise upcoming sporting events. The entire building smells faintly of cleaning chemicals and dust. Nowhere is there any indication that a crazed stalker could’ve come from the place. 

A few kids bearing hall passes side-eye the college student as he walks by. Hwa gets the vibe that the strange blond guy is gonna be a lunch conversation topic today. That's something he remembers very well about high school: how even the slightest alteration of the convention warranted attention. He wonders how Hongjoong fared in a place like this. Not that “this” is anywhere special. That’s the thing. Malicious or not, Hongjoong is definitely special. He could easily have been a target for bullying.

Seonghwa mentally moves on. Now is not the time to picture pitiful high school scenarios for his crazy ex. He steels himself with a deep breath upon reaching the office. 

“Welcome in. Mr. Choi,” The secretary asks from her perch behind the desk.

“Hello. Thank you for having me on such short notice,” Seonghwa replies politely.

“Oh, it’s not trouble at all,” She waves dismissively. “Come here and sign in.” 

  
Seonghwa does as asked, filling in the phony name and the time of arrival.

“Now, it’s been a while since I was in college, but I thought fraternities only accepted new members during the fall semester,” The secretary says amicably. 

“One of our members transferred, so we had a free slot,” Seonghwa plays it off cooly. “As I explained on the phone, we are quite selective.”

“I can tell,” The older woman grins graciously upon receiving the sign-in sheet. She grabs a little lanyard from a nearby desk and starts writing the copied name on the plastic with a dry-erase marker. 

“Have you worked here long?” Seonghwa asks, hoping to sound casual and conversational. “Did you ever know Kim Hongjoong?”

The secretary hands over the guest pass and nods, “A lot of students come through here, but he was always a special one.”

“Why so, if I may ask?” Now Hwa’s intrigued. He latches onto every word that comes out of the woman’s mouth as she replies.

“He was a good student, but what really set him apart was his spirit,” She elaborates. “You see when he was here…” She trails off into some story about Hongjoong. Hwa sort of hears it, but his attention gets drawn to a door to the back of the main office. The frosted glass on the door reads: “ARCHIVES”. So that’s where they keep physical files, Hwa thinks.

“His… Spirit?” Seonghwa responds so the other doesn’t catch onto him zoning out.

“Well, I’m sure you know all about that with the interviews,” She chuckles. “As for high school activities, all of our yearbooks are archived in the library downstairs.”

“R-Right, yes,” Seonghwa nods. He flashes her a phony grin and grabs the pass, annoyed. It’s probably better that she didn’t press for much conversation. He can only keep up the ruse for so long. 

Seonghwa follows the directions to reach the library - down the stairs and take two lefts. The smell of old books hits him like a brick when he enters the very brown library. It’s surprisingly dim for a library, making Seonghwa wonder how anyone can actually manage to read in the place. A few other students give him weird looks, and the librarian openly body checks him from behind her reading glasses. That’s about when it occurs to Seonghwa precisely how insane the stunt he’s pulling is. Holy shit. 

He’s posing as some frat bro so he can break into Hongjoong’s high school and dig up dirt on him. What the fuck?

Seonghwa reminds himself that, yes, he’s sort of looking into Hongjoong excessively, but Hongjoong did it first! It is far too late to turn back now, anyway. Hwa commits to going through with it. He aloofly paces over to the librarian and asks where the yearbooks are. She points him to a far corner of the library, and Hwa thanks her politely on behalf of Alpha Tau Zeta.

Even though Hongjoong is probably nowhere near his alma mater, Seonghwa can’t shake the twinge of paranoia itching in his skin. He scans the rows of yearbooks and pulls the years that seem appropriate. Hongjoong is a year behind Hwa in school, so it’s only logical to conclude that his high school years will align with that.

“Okay,” Seonghwa whispers to himself. “Freshmen year. Let’s see what you’ve got for freshmen year…”

Luckily, Hwa’s deductive reasoning got him to the right year. He quickly flips through the page of first-year pictures.

“Damn,” Hwa laughs airly. “That is… A look.” Hongjoong is almost unrecognizable with black, cropped hair. Seonghwa is so used to seeing the other with red hair, that it’s the black that comes off as unnatural. Hwa squints at the old yearbook photo, bringing it closer to his face. They say that a person’s eyes can tell all. Oftentimes even old serial killers and criminals show that something is off. However, all Seonghwa can gather from Hongjoong’s picture is that he’s sort of depressed. Who isn’t during school? The kid’s smile is tight-lipped and obviously forced, completely devoid of any joy. Hwa frowns and moves on.

“Clubs, clubs, clubs…” He mutters to himself flipping to the back of the book. “Aha- choir? Hm. A tenor.” Hwa raises his brows at the image on the choir page. Rows of kids in robes stand on risers. Hongjoong’s so small and his hair is so dark that he blends in with the dark robes they’re all wearing. The image is completely unremarkable. Seonghwa groans and keeps turning. He almost passes the sports festival page, but a name in bold type stops him.

“Kim Hongjoong… Third place in- what? No fucking way.” But there it is in black and white: Kim Hongjoong third place in_ the long jump _. His freshmen year, too. That seems… Unlikely. “Wh- High jump, too? No fucking way.”

Seonghwa throws the yearbook aside and opens another. It’s the second year one. The photo is very similar. Hongjoong’s hair is slightly longer but aside from that, it’s more of the same - just as awkward, uncomfortable, and glum. That year his picture is in choir and the track club. He takes third in the long jump and second in the high jump. 

“This is getting me nowhere,” Seonghwa concludes with a huff. After poring through the yearbooks, all he’s learned so far is that Hongjoong likes music and somehow held school records for track events. In spite of that, he apparently didn’t care enough to compete or go for sports scholarships. He feels frustrated, and regret starts to sink in more and more with each completely ordinary discovery. He asks himself: what did he want to find? It’s not like a high school yearbook is going to explain how a perfectly normal-looking student dove off the deep end and became a superstitious stalker. Or how said student happens to know intimate details of his RA’s life. Hwa hoped for some insight on the guy. Maybe where he’s from or the type of people he hung out with. Save for the club photos, he’s not really in anything else. Did he keep to himself?

But then what was the secretary saying about his “spirit”? Hwa wishes he’d listened. Maybe she could have told him more, but all he could think about at that moment was the archives room. Now that would tell him everything. Addresses, grades, infractions - hell, vaccinations. If he could get into those, he might begin to get an idea as to who Kim Hongjoong really is.

“Excuse me,” A soft voice rouses Seonghwa from his thoughts. 

He startles slightly from the sudden interruption but quickly smooths over his perturbed expression, “O-Oh, hello.” He greets the librarian with a phony smile. 

“Mr. Choi, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know it’s lunchtime.”

“It- It is?” Seonghwa quirks a brow.

“Oh, yes- the bell is very hard to hear in here. It’s insulated to keep it quiet- you know, for studying and all that.”

“Right. Um, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you from your lunch, then. If you need to lock up, I can go,” Hwa stubbornly maintains a grin while fury boils on the inside. He wanted something more. He’s not sure what, but more. Some kind of smoking gun or missing piece, something to link him to Kim Hongjoong or Hongjoong to lunacy. He’s not sure what exactly he was looking for, but he traveled a long way not to find it.

“Oh, no,” She waves kindly. “We don’t let the kids stay in here, but you’re a special exception. I know I can trust a frat board member to behave in my absence. Just keep it quiet, okay?” She laughs.

The unexpected development gives Hwa’s mood a much needed lift, and he smiles genuinely, “I promise, it’ll be like nobody’s here.”

“Good, good. Now, will you be opposed to me locking you in here? Students really aren’t allowed to be present when I’m gone.”

“I should be fine,” Seonghwa says. The cogs in his brain start turning furiously. “Actually, if I need to use the restroom… Could I just maybe prop a door open with a stop? Just a tiny bit? The restroom’s just outside, um, across the hall, right?”

“Yes, yes… Oh, that should be fine, dear. Just- like I told you, nobody can be here. And also, if anyone asks,” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “I didn’t let you stay during lunch.”

Seonghwa rewards the woman with a charming smile and a wink, “It’ll be our secret.”

The woman lets out a bubbly giggle and waves farewell, “Alrighty then. I’m gonna turn most of the lights off, but I’ll keep the one by you on. There’s a stopper by that door if you just want to pop it in place so the door’s open a crack.”

“Got it,” Seonghwa answers, nodding happily. “Oh, wait- One more question.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Is _ everyone _on lunch at this time? Like, all the teachers, office staff...”

“Everyone save for the custodians and lunch proctors. Why do you ask?”

“Just in case of an emergency. A zeta always has to be prepared,” Seonghwa lies. “Have a good lunch!” He waves and winks one more time, just to be sure she’s not thinking straight when she leaves him unattended in the library by himself.

All by himself.

The place is eerie in low lighting. Of course, he has no intention of actually staying there with whatever spooky specters wander the old stacks. Seonghwa gives himself about five minutes of quiet to contemplate his plan of action. Lunch is about an hour, give or take, and he intends on using as much of that time as possible.

The school is old, and it’s nestled in a relatively safe suburb just over an hour from the nearest major city (where his university is). Nothing necessitates particularly stringent security. Nobody really refers to paper archives in these days. The room is probably deserted. With everyone on lunch, it would be criminally easy to break-in. It would also be just plain criminal, but that’s only if he gets caught.

And Seonghwa doesn’t plan on getting caught.

When his five are up, Seonghwa swiftly slips through the cracked door. He casts cursory glances left and right down the hallway. A few straggling students amble along in the distance, but there’s nobody close to his vicinity. Hwa does his best to look nonchalant as he walks against general traffic toward the steps. Stress jostles in his gut as he takes the stairs two at a time, head whipping around to scan his surroundings.

He turns the corner and trots toward the main office, hoping that door isn’t locked, too. Vague silhouettes show through the frosted glass door, but Hwa can’t tell if they’re people or furniture. When the door abruptly swings open, he gets his answer. Panicked, Seonghwa promptly presses himself between two sets of lockers and hopes for the best. If it’s the secretary who he’d spoken to earlier, he’s definitely done for.

Much to Seonghwa’s relief, it isn’t her. The worker taps on their phone distractedly as they walk past, and Hwa hops out from his hiding place speedily the second they pass. He just barely manages to catch the door before it shuts. The fake frat boy peers in cautiously, spinning a fake story just in case someone catches him. He takes a step in and checks the office. 

The lights are on, but nobody’s home. No secretary, no open doors to the connected offices. 

“Thank god,” Seonghwa heaves a sigh of relief. He freezes up for a second. Eyes wide, he inspects the corners of the ceiling. “No cameras,” He breathes out with relief.

  
The blond, not keen on wasting time, rushes over to the door that’d so prominently pronounced itself to him earlier. The knob doesn’t turn. Instead, it responds to his try at getting in with a stubborn clunking sound.

“Shit,” Hwa hisses. It’s locked. He wrings a hand through his hair, “Okay. Think, think, think…” He checks the top of the secretary's desk for a spare set of keys but no dice. Of course she wouldn’t leave them there, he thinks. That would be stupid. He eyes her drawers momentarily, but most of them have locks save for the first one. 

“This is wrong,” He whispers to himself as he gingerly slides her top drawer open. “This is so wrong.” The drawer hardly has anything helpful. There’s some scratch pads, post-its, pens, and other miscellaneous office supplies.

“Son of a bitch,” Hwa curses. Angry, he turns around and tries the door again. Nothing. He tries it again. The door nearly comes off its hinges. It’s a shitty, old door with a shitty, old lock. If he tried hard enough, he could probably actually break it, but that would be very illegal and very noisy. Someone somewhere has to have a shitty, old key. At least, that’s Hwa’s rationale as he wracks his brain for other easy to access places one might stash a key to a room nobody cares about. He starts pondering where the janitor would keep spare keys when his eye catches the keyhole of the old knob again. It’s old. Simple. Rudimentary.

Hwa opens the secretary’s drawer again and takes out the biggest paperclip he can find.

“Remember, Seonghwa,” He reassures himself as he crouches down by the door. “You’re doing this for your sanity.” 

After great effort and a few suspect searches on his phone browser, he manages to break into the school’s archive room. Like any sane, reasonable man would.

“Holy shit,” Seonghwa laughs wryly. “I actually fucking did it.” There isn’t much time to relish in the victory, though. He’s probably burned a quarter of his hour already. Plus, who knows when people will start trickling back in. Most people don’t actually take their full lunch break nowadays.

Hwa slips into the archives room, shutting the door behind him softly. He flicks on a light then thinks better of it. On the off chance someone is really early, the light is sure to arouse suspicion. Seonghwa opts to use his phone flashlight instead. Something about a flashlight being the sole source of light in a dark place is inherently ominous. That, along with the musty smell of years old files weighs Hwa’s chest down with a sense of dread.

“Now would be a very bad time to find out this place is haunted,” He jokes to himself. 

The archives room is deceptively large. From the main office, it looks like nothing more than a closet, but it stretches surprisingly far back. In it are rows and rows of shelves lined with old banker’s boxes. No doubt these are chock full of old student files. Seonghwa shines his flashlight around and starts trying to make sense of the place.

It’s organized by graduation year, then by last name. Seonghwa ventures a few rows in before finding the proper year. From there it’s easy. Hwa pulls out the box that matches up with the redhead’s last name (and kicks up a cloud of dust with it). He tosses the lid down and starts sifting through the densely packed manila folders. To think, all the years of struggle and effort can be reduced to mere slivers of paper and packed into a little file.

Seonghwa murmurs to himself as he searches, “Kim, Kim, Kim, Kim… Kim Hongjoong, there you are!” He gasps, and his brows raise. “Aren’t you a thick file?” Hongjoong’s file is not just thick. It is by far the thickest. “Now what’s this about? Did you have behavioral issues, Hongjoong?”

Consumed by intrigue, Seonghwa opens the file eagerly, “Let’s see, Kim Hongjoong. Male… Yup, that’s his picture. Let’s see. Born in-” Seonghwa chokes. He flips through the heap of papers relating to Kim Hongjoong frantically.

“There’s no fucking way,” Seonghwa whispers exasperatedly. “This- This can’t be right.” He finds another paper. Something about vaccinations. Oh, good, he was vaccinated for the flu during his second year. Excellent. That doesn’t explain the anomaly of his birth year, though. Hwa tries to find another document. A confirmation of physical wellness for track club denotes the same birth date. 

Seonghwa travelled this far and broke into an archives room to illegally look at files he has no right to. He did this in hopes of getting answers - answers to a question he’s not positive he knows or understands. Instead, all he’s getting is another question. A big one at that.

Hwa double checks the graduation year he’s in just to make sure he’s right. It is, in fact, the graduation year after his. Given that Hongjoong is a year below Seonghwa, it’s logical to assume the redhead graduated the year after Seonghwa. The paperwork seems to support that assumption as well. But his age…

According to the papers, Hongjoong is four years older than Seonghwa.

Hwa’s heard of people being held back, but four years? That’s essentially the entirety of high school. How can someone be held back for _ four years _?

A noise outside of the archives door pulls Seonghwa out of his dazed contemplation. Seonghwa’s heart lurches. He stressedly peeks out from the edge of the shelf to find the source. A hazy, vaguely human-shaped splotch shifts around malignantly beyond the frosted glass.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa whispers to himself.

Someone’s cut their lunch short. Very short. Seonghwa cowers behind the shelf. His mind reels as he tries to figure out what the hell he’s going to do. The file. He checks the file which is now a mess due to his frantic search for a sensible birth date. In a tizzy, he starts taking pictures with his phone, praying the flashlight doesn’t rouse any attention. Luckily, the shelf behind gives him enough cover to not be completely obvious. It’s not likely anyone is going to dip into the paper archives room for anything during lunch. Most of that stuff is digitized in this day and age, anyway - that’s what Hwa keeps telling himself to keep the looming mental breakdown at bay.

He snaps picture after picture after picture. He takes a picture of every single page no matter how inconsequential at a glance. All the while he mouths out curses to himself. So much for peace of mind. The second he finishes the file, he shoves everything back into the folder and stuffs it into the box.

Seonghwa glances out the frosted glass again. He holds out hope that maybe he’d just seen something, but, nope, there it is. The silhouette.

“What are you doing?” He whispers angrily. “Go on your lunch break.” A cold sweat clams up the surface of his skin.

Things escalated more than they really ought to have. Seonghwa realizes this now. He shouldn’t be here. Not just “here” as in holed up in the musty archive room of a high school he didn’t even go to. Here as in at the high school, period. Here as in the mental place that drove him to stalk the guy who he’d scorned for stalking him. 

Yet there he is, on his hands and knees crawling toward the door to the aforementioned archive room because standing up runs the risk of being seen.

Seonghwa presses himself against the door, just barely sticking his head up enough to see out the window. He watches carefully for what feels like years. Part of him fears that breathing too loud will alert the misty figure on the other side of the door that he’s there.

The shadow shifts, and Hwa boldly presses his face closer to the glass to watch. They turn a corner and disappear to the left. Seonghwa vaguely remembers the layout of the office space. To the left of the archive room should be a little hallway leading to more offices. That means the person shouldn’t be able to see him come out of the door. But, still, what happens when he emerges? How does he explain being behind the desk?

Hwa doesn’t care. There’s no time to care. He turns the knob to the archive room gingerly. The squeaky clunking noise it makes sounds deafening to Seonghwa, and he winces with each little clack and thud that comes out of the ancient, infernal lock mechanism.

So far, the coast appears to be clear. Seonghwa opens the door just a sliver. He doesn’t see anyone nor hear anything. It’s a decent sign, but far from comforting. His vantage is pretty damn rotten down on the ground behind the door. Regardless, Hwa has nothing better to do, and every second ticking by is a second that the enigmatic shadow could return.

Quietly, Seonghwa opens the door. He slinks through the second it’s open just enough and shuts it like it’s made of fragile glass. 

  
Good.

Nobody’s around. 

This might actually work.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath and stands up slowly. There’s nobody in front of the secretary’s desk or in the sitting area. He glances at the hall beyond the desk. Nobody. That leaves the hallway behind and to the left - where the other person had gone.

Hwa’s blood turns cold when he sees madame secretary herself. She’s yawning over a copy machine at the end of the hall. Seonghwa mouths out another “fuck” and calculates his next move. He figures the only way to go is forward. Jumping over her desk is much too brazen in his opinion, so he has to risk crossing her line of sight. Even if just in her peripherals, passing through could alert her and raise questions. The entire facade could come crashing down on him if he’s unlucky.

Seonghwa once again hits the go button. The longer he waits the closer she’ll get to finish her task. He tiptoes into the narrow hall. He persistently watches her in doing so, watching over his shoulder with bated breath. The secretary grabs a few papers off of the copy machine tray and starts making her way back to the desk.

“Shit,” Seonghwa mutters to himself. He wonders if she’ll notice him crawling in front of her desk. He ought to be out of vision from that spot, but that’s assuming she goes to sit at her desk. Hwa starts rushing toward the door, hoping she doesn’t look up from the stack of papers she’s counting as she walks. The door out is close. So, so close. He’s seconds away from reaching it.

However, fate plays a prank on him instead.

Seonghwa’s feet tangle, and he dumbly falls flat onto the ground. Unable to contain it, he lets out a pained groan and winces. He gets up onto all fours and crawls toward the secretary’s desk, but he knows it probably won’t do him any good.

“Wh- Huh?” Her voice rings out behind him.  


Busted.

“Mr. Choi, what are you doing here during lunchtime? Oh- I’m sorry, I should ask, are you okay?” The secretary stands over him with a puzzled look on her face.

“U-Uh- I- I tripped,” Seonghwa responds dumbly.

“I can see that. Are you hurt?” She starts appearing less inquisitive and more worried.

“O-Oh, I’m- I’m fine,” Seonghwa coughs. He scrambles onto his feet awkwardly and dusts himself off. “Only thing hurt is my pride, really.” He half-heartedly jokes.

The woman chuckles and shakes her head, “Whatever you say. But, um, what’re you doing here during lunch? Nobody’s supposed to be in the office during lunchtime.”

“I- I’m sorry,” Seonghwa lets out a sheepish laugh. “I didn’t know.”

“How’d you even get in here? The door’s supposed to be locked. Did someone let you in?”

“Uh- No. It was unlocked,” Seonghwa answers. “I am so, so sorry. I wasn’t aware of your policy.” He tries his best to look apologetic and pitiable.

“It wasn’t?” The secretary sighs. “I’ll have to talk to the aid again. She keeps forgetting to lock it.”

“Please don’t scold her on my account,” Seonghwa says sheepishly. “Oh, um, my reasoning for being here was that I wanted to return this.” He removes the clip-on guest badge he’d been given from his jacket. “I’ve gotten everything I need, so I’ll be on my way.”

“So soon?” The secretary asks. “Well, I suppose you college kids are busy people.” She takes the badge and gives him a kindly smile.

“Quite,” Hwa nods politely.

“So… I have to ask: did he get in?”

“Hm?”

“Kim Hongjoong? Do you think he’s Zeta material?” She giggles impishly.

“Ah- Yes. That matter is… Still up for discussion. As you know these things have to be agreed on.”

“Right, right, of course, but…” Her voice lowers, and she peers intently into Seonghwa’s eyes. “What do _you_ think?”

“U-Uh, me?” Hwa nibbles on his lower lip as he tries to formulate an appropriate, believable, not-weird answer. “I think… He’s certainly extraordinary. Unlike any person I’ve ever met.”

The secretary beams with pride, “That fits the bill for the Kim Hongjoong I remember.” She claps happily, “Well, then, I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for looking into our Kim Hongjooong.”

“It’s me who ought to thank you for having me,” Seonghwa nods politely. “Goodbye.”

“Buh-bye!” The secretary jovially waves as he departs.

Stress permeates every cell of Seonghwa’s body as he steps out of that office. It stays there as he descends the steps and leaves the building. He mindlessly walks down the block just get away from the place, and the anxiety stubbornly remains. Even when the place is blocks behind him, he can’t shake the feeling of nerves. So much storms through his head.

He can’t believe he got away with that. He can’t believe he did it in the first place and for whom and why. He can’t believe any of it.

When the high of stress fueled adrenaline starts dwindling, Seonghwa finally stops walking and calls a cab to the train station. All he’d done in there was snap, snap, snap; he didn’t have time to really look through anything.

Seonghwa prays that somewhere on his phone there’s a sort of answer to all of these riddles, a cosmic link. Even just the _ tiniest _ inclination as to what the fuck is going on would help his state of mind. He can’t go on the way he is right now. Confused, devastated, and upset.

He has to know: who _is_ Kim Hongjoong?

* * *

Neverland is drearier than Seonghwa has ever seen it before. For the first time since ever, the skies are gray and a chilly wind rustles all the leaves. Under the dark sky, everything looks gloomier. It’s like the air itself is sapping life out of everything around it. The birds have gone quiet and the frogs don’t warble. There’s not a critter to be seen. Along the shore, the waves just barely lap at the sand bar.

All of Neverland has slowed to near still, a lot like Hongjoong.

  
The leader of the lost boys hasn’t left bed for three days. Seonghwa has graduated from worried to panicked. He pored through every relevant book in their stack and concluded that Hongjoong needs true love’s kiss. It’s the only thing that’s left. No medicines have worked, no plants or incantations or prayers. Magic is all they have left.

So magic they shall use - or at least try to.

Seonghwa’s chest aches as he lands outside the den. There are others there ready to greet him. The lost boys and an honored guest he’d personally requested. 

Seonghwa tries not to frown too much as he approaches and greets them, “Hey guys.” He turns and bows to his honored guest, “Hello, Princess Tigerlily.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Seonghwa,” The princess curtseys, “I’m sorry it must be under such terrible circumstances.”

“Thank you for coming,” The eldest says.

“The lost boys have done a lot for my tribe. They are cherished friends. We would do anything for you all - especially Hongjoong.”

“I’m- I’m glad,” Seonghwa forces a polite smile. “Guys, how’s he doing?”

The lost boys exchange a few crestfallen looks, and a couple shake their heads. Not good. 

“W-Well, let’s go in, then,” Seonghwa ushers the crowd toward the entrance of the underground hideout. He’s the last to descend the steps into their cozy cave. The mood inside is even more depressing. It’s dim save for a couple of candlelit lamps and Maddox’s faint glimmer. The fairy hasn’t let Hongjoong out of his sight since the leader got sick. The lost boys crowd around the bed at the end, and Seonghwa pushes through them to get a look at the leader himself.

Seonghwa’s heart crumbles.

  
Hongjoong looks more like a statue than a boy. His pale body lays perfectly still. Seonghwa even has to press his ear to the other’s chest just to make sure there’s a heartbeat. Stifling a sniffle, Hwa turns to the throng gathered around the bed.

“B-Back up a bit everyone,” He commands shakily. He just wants to hug the other and cry. He wants to smack Hongjoong awake and tell him to snap out of it. He wants to fly around with the redhead and laugh at his stupid jokes. 

  
He just wants his best friend back.

Seonghwa extends a hand toward Princess Tigerlily, “Your majesty if you could just- just come here. I called you because we need your help. I think you can be the answer to curing Hongjoong.”

Tigerlily points to herself, surprised, “Who- Me?”

The black-haired boy nods, “Yes.”

“Wait-” One of the lost boys pipes up, “How come she can help him but we can’t?”

“Yeah, what’s this all about?” Another asks.

Seonghwa sighs and explains, “Okay, well… We tried everything else. Medicines, herbs, sleep, giving him good food and drinks, but nothing’s working. Maddox suggested we try magic, and… Well, I don’t know a lot about magic spells, but-” He grabs Snow White off of the edge of Joong’s bed and shows the cover, “-we might know how to crack this one. I- I don’t know if this is a curse, but…”

Hwa bites his lip nervously. He’d been dreading asking this, but it has to be done. For Hongjoong. Seonghwa will endure it no matter how awkward or uncomfortable or hard to watch.

“Look,” Seonghwa glances at Snow White pointedly, “In- In this story- and so, so many others, what breaks bad spells and solves problems is a kiss. Usually, it’s a guy that kisses a princess, but… W-Well, Tigerlily is a princess, and Hongjoong is a guy. S-So, I think that- that maybe if she kisses him, whatever sickness or curse that’s on him will lift.”

“Wait- You want her to kiss him?” One of the other boys asks in disbelief.

“Hongjoong would kill you if you let a girl kiss him!” Another adds, scandalized.

“Princess Tigerlily,” Seonghwa pleads, ignoring the others’ protests. “I know it’s- it’s kind of weird, but… Would you please kiss Hongjoong? I think it might be the only way.”

“I… Seonghwa, I’m not sure that’s how that works,” The princess replies. Hwa’s shoulders slump, and he gets ready to say an apology. However, she adds, “But for Hongjoong - and the lost boys - I’ll do whatever is asked if a life is at stake.”

“O-Okay, then, just, um…” Seonghwa awkwardly shuffles to the side and gestures to the sleeping redhead.

Tigerlily nods and advances slowly. She inspects the sleeping boy closely. A few of the lost boys wince and cringe while others subtly lean in to watch closely. Seonghwa can’t take his eyes away as the beautiful tribal princess lowers her face close to Hongjoong’s. He imagines this is what watching a trainwreck is like. He doesn’t want to see it, but he can’t stop.

A few gasps sound out as Princess Tigerlily’s lips touch Hongjoong’s. Seonghwa’s heart writhes, stabbed with an ugly, agonizing pain. For a moment, the entire room holds its breath.

The princess pulls away slowly and trains her gaze on the boy below.

A minute passes by, but nothing visibly changes. He doesn’t stir one bit.

Princess Tigerlily hangs her head low and turns to Seonghwa, “I-I’m sorry.” She clenches her fists in front of her dress. “I’m so sorry.”

A couple of cries and sniffs echo across the hideout.

“It’s- It’s okay,” Seonghwa replies, his voice thick. “Thanks for trying. It’s… It’s all we can do.”

“I- I shall go to my people and insist that we pray more. Surely this spell will break.”

“Of course,” Hwa says. Despair sits in his stomach, heavily. “U-Um, if a couple of you could- could escort her back home.” A couple of teary-eyed lost boys graciously volunteered and left with her.

“What are we gonna do?” “Is- Is he gonna be like this forever?” “Is he gonna die?” “Hongjoong…” Cries and questions that nobody can answer fill the hideout. In spite of all the noise, Hongjoong remains completely unmoving. There’s not even a twitch or a cough. Seonghwa hesitantly reaches out a hand to check the other’s temperature.

He gasps, drawing his hand back quickly. It’s cold. _ He’s _ cold. Hwa’s hands shoot to cover his mouth, and he suppresses a wail of agony. His eyes squeeze shut, and his body folds over itself as it dawns on him that his friend isn’t merely sick. He’s dying. With every day, he’s wearing away more and more. How long until Hongjoong diminishes into nothing?

“H-Hwa are you okay?” One of the lost boys asks, rushing to his side.

“I- I’m fine!” Seonghwa lashes out, shoving the other away. He wipes a hand roughly across his face and sniffs loudly. “He’s cold. He needs something hot to drink. M-Maybe some hot stones for his bed.”

“Uh…” “Um-”

“Please!” Seonghwa turns around and insists. “Please just go. Hot tea and hot stones, now!” He demands in a shaky voice. Nobody protests even though Hwa had delivered the order so rudely. Even Maddox leaves, twinkling something or the other to Seonghwa before flittering away. 

With the departure of the lost boys and Princess Tigerlily, everything gets quiet.

Seonghwa feels at a loss. He feels useless and wonders if he should go out and do something, too. But he can’t leave Joong alone, either, so he stays. He tries to warm the other’s face with his hands, but it doesn’t really work. Hongjoong’s body just saps all the warmth from Seonghwa until he’s shivering.

He really thought the kiss would work. Knowing that the kiss - his last idea, the only other thing he could think of - didn’t work, kills him. Without the others nearby, Seonghwa openly cries. He cries and cries and cries. He cries until he’s an exhausted, winded, wet mess.

“H-Hongjoong,” Seonghwa whispers to the other, “What’re we gonna do?” A tear rolls off of his cheek onto Hongjoong’s. “Oh- Gosh,” Hwa sniffles, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I- I cried on you. Look what you made me do you big dummy.” He swipes the tear off of Hongjoong’s cold, porcelain cheek. “Made me cry on you.”

Hwa lets out an airy laugh, “Yeah, I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you?” He jokes. For some reason, it comforts him to talk to Joong as if he’s totally fine. “You get to enjoy a nap while the rest of us fuss over you. Probably makes you real happy that you’re the center of attention.” He chuckles weakly, swiping a thumb across the other’s cheek again.

“Hey,” Seonghwa says, his voice low and hoarse from all the crying. “Hey we’re friends, right?” He’s not sure why he’s asking. Of course they are. “Don’t… Don’t friends love each other, too?”

It starts building up in his head brick by brick, this idea.

“I mean, all those… All those books they’re- the spells are broken by true love’s kiss, but who says true love has to be just a princess and a prince, right? I mean, we love each other, but we’re not- it’s- it’s not like that… Right?”

Seonghwa swallows down the big lump in his throat.

“Because that’s for grownups. And we can’t grow up here in Neverland it’s… It’s against the rules,” He licks his lips nervously. “But friends, that’s- that’s different. The love of friendship is- is real and valid, so- so what if I… If I just…”

Nervousness tosses and turns in Seonghwa’s stomach. He can barely breathe, and the closer he gets to Joong the harder it gets. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists in his lap. He can feel his breath bounce off of the other’s skin as he goes lower and lower, closer and closer. 

Until finally, his lips make contact with Hongjoong’s cheek. 

Seonghwa plants a nice, friendly peck. He lingers there for a few seconds. He’s never exactly kissed someone before. Not that this is, like, a _kiss_ kiss. He has kissed his family and pets, but this isn’t like that. But obviously, it’s not like _ that _ kind of kiss, either.

Then, he waits.

  
He waits and waits and waits. 

  
Seonghwa’s lip quivers when, after five minutes, nothing happens. Nothing changes.

“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa sniffles. He hits the other lightly with his hand. “Hongjoong, you jerk… Get up already.” He hits the other again. “Just get up, you jerk. Stop making us worry.”

A soft, steady pattering sound trickles into the den. It’s raining outside. For the first time ever since Seonghwa’s been there, it’s raining. He imagines the lost boys are all ducking for cover. Even safe in the den, he feels like he wants to cower under something, too. His entire body aches from anguish. All he’s been able to think about for what feels like forever is Hongjoong. He wakes up concerned and goes to bed distressed. All he wants is to see that stupid smile again. He wants to hear the other taunt him and to get beaten in a flying race.

“Hongjoong, stop it already,” The black-haired boy sobs and hits him again, “Stop it you jerk. Just- Just wake up already. This isn’t f-funny.”

Seonghwa crumples over until he’s just a crying mess on top of the other, “If- If you don’t wake up, I’ll hate you, you know that? I’ll hate you forever.”

A clap of thunder echoes in from up above. The force of it is so violent, it shakes the lanterns and books resting on the walls. Yet, even so, Hongjoong remains completely and utterly still.

“I’ll never forgive you, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa cries with his head buried in the blanket heap. “I’ll never, ever forgive you if you don’t just- just get better!”

The rain sounds almost deafening now. It’s like it’s hammering down from above, and another bolt of thunder shakes the ground. Seonghwa stays the way he is for a while. He just hugs the blankets on top of Joong and wails until he’s tired again. His chest aches and his eyes are sore from all the crying. Every time he thinks he can’t shed another tear, more well up in his eyes.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa sniffles. He stands up straight and wipes his face with the back of his wrist. “Hongjoong…” He frowns down at the completely motionless redhead. Seonghwa ghosts a hand over the other’s cheek. It’s like porcelain - pale and cool to the touch. He frowns. He walks a finger over to Hongjoong’s nose and lets it rest there, just to make sure he’s breathing. He is, thankfully - but barely. Then, he grazes Hongjoong’s pale, cracked lips.

Seonghwa’s head tilts curiously, and the fingers that’d traced the other’s face go to his own lips. Maybe the magic didn’t fail because of their friendship, but because of where he’d kissed Hongjoong. It’s an optimistic, sort of last-resort kind of thought that bubbles up in Hwa’s head. 

Desperate, he latches onto that idea. 

His eyes fall on the other’s lips again, and he asks himself: is this okay? Can he do it? What does it mean if he does? Does it even mean anything? Will Hongjoong know or remember?

Seonghwa shoves the thoughts out of his head. He decides: he doesn’t care. If there’s even a chance Hongjoong will get better, he’ll do it. No matter what.

Seonghwa shudders with nerves as he lowers himself again. He blinks his eyes shut and clutches the blankets in a vice grip to vent the tension. Once again, he can feel the tickle of breath bouncing off of skin. His own warmth radiates off of Hongjoong. Their noses brush, and Seonghwa feels his heart flip and flop. He can’t back down now, though. Seonghwa’s entire body tenses as he finally lurches forward, making their lips meet. He realizes that doesn’t exactly constitute a kiss; so, just to be sure, he makes the conscious effort to press his lips on the other’s gently.

Tension uncoils and Seonghwa’s body gradually relaxes. His fists loosen up and he tilts his head like what he sees in movies. Warmth floods his body, pooling in his face and prickling his ears. His heart flutters around faster than a fairy, zipping and zooming so much in his chest he’s afraid it’ll burst out.

“M-mn…” A soft croak comes out of Hongjoong’s throat.

Seonghwa feels the vibrations through his lips which prompts him to back off. With wide eyes, he watches life gradually return to Hongjoong’s face. The redhead winces and twitches. He stretches slowly and blinks his eyes open. In just a short few instants, color returns to his face, and life glimmers beneath his eyes.

“Hmm… Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asks dazedly. “Seonghwa, you-”

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa jumps on top of the other and hugs the life out of him. “You’re awake!”

“Uff- Hwa,” Joong whines - he actually whines. He has the energy and will to _ whine _! Never has that been so exhilarating to hear. “You’re killing me.”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa says. 

“Wh- Hwa, why?”

“You idiot, why didn’t you wake up sooner!” Seonghwa demands, looming over the other.

“I was just sleepy, that’s all. Why are you overreacting so much? Wait… Are you- Were you crying?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“Oh my god, were you crying over _ me _?”

“Shut up! Ugh- Why are you such a jerk?!” Seonghwa sniffs.

“Aww, Hwa was crying over lil’ old me,” Hongjoong singsongs hoarsely.

“It’s not funny, Hongjoong,” Hwa tries to sound tough and intimidating, but he’s closer to crying than fury. 

“Wh- Seonghwa, I was just playing around,” He coughs.

Hwa wipes his eyes again, “It’s not funny.” He says more weakly.

Hongjoong’s devilish grin falls, “I… I’m sorry, Seonghwa.”

“You should be. Do you know how much you made us worry.”

“N… No?”

“What even happened, anyway? Did you eat a poisoned apple or something? Prick your finger on a spindle?”

“I- I dunno. Why so many quest-”

“Wait- How are you feeling now? Are you-” Hwa plants a palm on Joong’s forehead. “Are you hot? Cold? Hungry? You’ve gotta be hungry.”

“Seonghwa-”

“Is anything hurting? We- We have medicine. The boys were getting tea-”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong shouts so loud he wheezes. “H-Hwa. I’m fine.”

“I… You… You don’t look fine. I mean, you’re better, but- but what if it happens to you again?”

“What?”

“What if you fall asleep like that again? And don’t get up for days?”

“Well, I woke up this time. So I’ll wake up again,” The redhead shrugs.

“You didn’t just wake up.”

“How’d I wake up, then, huh? Whatever you did or gave me just do it again.”

Hwa’s hand clamps over his mouth and red flushes his cheeks again, “That… That’s not the point! You need to not fall asleep and get all cold and make us think you’re dead!”

“Wh- Oh my gosh, fine,” Hongjoong huffs. “Jeez.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that established, do you… Do you need anything to eat? Drink?”

“My throat is pretty scratchy. I can get it myself th-”

Hwa holds Hongjoong’s shoulders down before he can even make a move, “No way. I’ll get it.”

“Um- Why don’t you grab Maddox, Hwa?” Hongjoong suggests. “I know it’s getting late for you. Or, well, at least I think. It feels late. What time is it, anyway?”

Seonghwa heaves a sigh. Hongjoong is right. It is getting late. But Joong just woke up. Seonghwa can’t leave him now. What if Joong reverts back to his sleeping state? What if Joong needs something that’s too heavy for Maddox?

“It is late,” Seonghwa says. He hops off of the bed and crosses over the cupboard where they keep fresh water.

“You gotta go soon, right?” Hongjoong asks, not even hiding his sadness. “Just put the water by me and I’ll be fine.” The redhead’s face scrunches with aches and pains as he starts to sit up.

“Scoot over,” Seonghwa instructs.

“What?”

“I said scoot over.”

“Uh-”

  
“Just do it.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong blinks confusedly. The redhead complies, scooting to the other side of the bed cove.

Seonghwa hops into the emptied spot and throws the blankets over his legs, “Here, I got you.” He passes over the bottle. “Can you- Are you good to hold it or do you need help?”

“U-Uh- Um. I can try… Holding it,” Hongjoong looks more feverish now. His cheeks are pink and nose ruddy. Even though it’s far from ideal, it’s a welcome change compared to his statue-like state from before. Joong takes the bottle and carefully tips it to his lips. Just as Hwa suspected, he’s weak, and his hands shake just from the weight of it.

“Here,” Hwa grabs the bottle by the neck and tips it up to help.

Hongjoong gulps down half of the bottle, breathing out a happy little sigh when he’s done.

“Thanks,” The redhead says with a small smile.

Seonghwa’s heart glows with relief and happiness. That’s what he missed. It’s just a trace of the big, awesome smile he usually sees, but that’s okay. He’s patient.

“Um, Hwa,” Hongjoong mutters, leaning back onto his pillows. “Thanks for… For taking care of me and stuff.”

“Hongjoong, you’re my best friend. Of course I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Yeah, but… Well, thanks anyway. I’m- I’m better now- at least mostly. So you don’t have to worry, okay?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Hwa, I’m fine, really. You should go. I… I know you have to, and that’s okay. As long as you come back.”

Seonghwa shakes his head, “Not tonight.”

“Huh?”

“I’m staying the night.”

“Wh- But- You- You never stay the night,” Hongjoong’s eyes glimmer with wetness. “Did you ask your- your parents?”

“No, but, in this case, it’s kind of a necessity.”

“It is?”

“I don’t trust you not to try something stupid while I’m gone,” Hwa answers flatly. “Knowing you, you’re probably itching to fly or something. Nope. Can’t risk it.”

“You- You can’t risk it?”

“I’d come back tomorrow morning and see you with a broken leg or something.”

“N-No you wouldn’t!”

“I totally would!”

“W-Well, even if you’re here, who’s to say you could stop me from flying?”

“Oh yeah?” Seonghwa laughs. “Is that a challenge?” He turns onto his side and swings a leg over Hongjoong. “Challenge accepted.”

“Wha- What are you doing?” Hongjoong giggles weakly.

“You’re gonna stay put even if I see to it myself.”

“With your leg?”

“Yep.”

“You know, I could totally slip out from under your leg.”

“Oh, yeah? Well then what about this-?” Seonghwa laughs and wraps his arms around Joong, pulling him close. “Ha!”

  
“Wh- Hwa! I could barely breathe before!”

“You’re not going anywhere- yeek! You’re freezing!”

“And you’re warm,” Hongjoong sighs dreamily. “Give me your warmth.”

“I- I have regrets,” Seonghwa tries to wiggle away.

“Ha-ha! You’ve fallen right into my trap!” Hongjoong titters. He turns over so he’s facing Hwa and slides a hand just under the back of the other’s collar. 

“Oh my god- Cold hands, cold hands, cold hands-!”

The two wrestle and roughhouse until Hongjoong’s weakness eventually takes a toll on him. Seonghwa’s tired, too. The two eventually fall into place, snuggling up on their respective sides of the bed. They each whisper a sleepy goodnight to one another before going mute. 

Seonghwa keeps his ankle over the Hongjoong’s, just in case he gets any ideas about flying at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // you ever look at ur own writing and have that game grumps "ive had it, im fucking done" moment ??? bc that MEEEEE ughghgfjhgfh'iogeowghgowe genuine apology for how much things got out of hand and how stupid this has gotten but at this point it’s too late to turn back ty for understanding 😂


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // CHAPTER WARNING(s): mentions of child abuse, drug use

“Hey, honey,” Seonghwa’s mom greets him warmly when he enters the door. Even though it’s freezing outside, he’s sweating. He rushed from the station to his mom’s. He had swiped through a few of the file photos on his commute, but the constant jostling of the train along with his own nerves made him too nauseous to retain anything. “I put your laundry in the dryer, by the way. You were gone for quite awhile. Did you have a good outing with your friend?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa grunts, puzzled.

“Your- your friend. Didn’t you say you were going out to see some friends from high school?” 

“Oh- oh, right,” Seonghwa nods numbly. That’s what he’d told his mom early in the morning when he headed out. “It was good. He’s, um, doing good.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. It’s nice that you kids still keep in touch. The dryer should be done soon.”

“Okay, mom,” Hwa silently rushes her.

“What do you want for dinner tonight, dear?”

“Uh- I don’t care. Anything is good.”

“Dear?” Hwa’s mom gives him a good look over the top of her book. “Honey are you okay? Is something bothering you?”

“I need to pee,” Hwa blurts out. Wide-eyed, his mom blinks a few times before laughing.

“Sorry to keep you. Go, go pee,” She waves him away and returns to her paperback romance novel, humming a vague tune.

  
Seonghwa bolts up the steps and runs to his room. He frantically searches for his phone’s USB cable, tearing apart half the room. It ends up being buried under his blanket, and he yanks it out of the wall charger. While he could look at the files on his phone, he’d much rather read them on a bigger screen. He starts transferring the photos and then actually goes pee.

By the time he returns, the adrenaline of what he’s done has faded. He changes into comfier clothes, shedding the facade of frat boy Choi Mingi. Instead of rushing to his laptop like he’d planned, Hwa ends up collapsing on his bed. The gravity of what he’d just done bears down on him like the blade of a guillotine. To think, after he scorned Hongjoong for stalking him, he pulled  _ that _ stunt.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa breathes out heavily, wringing a hand down his face. He tries to pin down what exactly drove him to near insanity. He asks himself: why? Why the hell did he do  _ that _ ? Curiosity? Anger? Confusion? Obsession? He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to rationalize it. He can’t, though. He wants to blame Hongjoong, but how can he? Seonghwa knows that’s not the truth. Hongjoong may have stalked and studied him, but he sure as hell didn’t send Seonghwa to his alma mater to dig up old files. 

Hwa glances at his laptop screen and frowns. He finds himself at a fork in his path. The two choices: leave things as they are and let it go. Let  _ him _ go. 

Or he can finish what he started and pore over the files as he’d intended. With the information comes no guarantee of peace of mind or even concrete answers. All those files can promise is a chance. A toss of a coin where the faces are heads or insanity.

Hwa’s eyes fall on the white light of his laptop screen again, and they stay there, stuck. He can’t look away. He realizes that, while there  _ is _ a choice, he doesn’t  _ have _ a choice. Seonghwa heaves a heavy sigh and picks himself up off of the bed. He plods over to his desk and drops into the chair, his nerves a jumbled mess in his gut.

“Okay,” Seonghwa whispers to himself. He wrings his hands in his lap a few times before finally tapping the touchpad.

His search starts from most recent files first. Hongjoong’s senior year is succinctly laid out in just a handful of papers, one after the other. There’s nothing worth note, really. He had decent grades and good test scores. Nothing excessively impressive nor catastrophic or damning. He got a citation for his piercings - something Hwa would’ve laughed at if his stomach wasn’t busy knotting and unknotting itself. There are physical examinations and vaccination records, declarations of university intentions and aptitude results, psych evaluations and special education considerations.

“What?” Seonghwa narrows his eyes.

That’s interesting. Finally, he thinks, an indication that perhaps Kim Hongjoong is not quite right in the head. A pang of pain knocks at his chest when it occurs to him just how depraved it is to snoop on such an intimate detail on a person’s life. However curiosity overrides his self-loathing, and he reads on.

“Kim Hongjoong is… Stable… Has grown into a… Normal young adult… Hm. Don’t know about that,” Seonghwa presses his lips together. He taps the arrow key, going back to the special education documents. Not once did he peg Hongjoong as the type with special needs. Apparently, neither did he since he opted out of exam aids for his senior year. 

  
“I don’t get it,” Seonghwa mutters. “What’s wrong with you Kim Hongjoong? Are you sick?” No amount of diagnosable mental disorders can explain the dreams Seonghwa’s been having, though, or the memories chronicled in his journal.

Hwa looks further back and finds more of the same. Everything pops up more frequently the further back in high school he goes - psych evaluations, special needs considerations, even physical examinations increase in frequency. 

Yet nothing ever shows, well, anything. No schizophrenia or debilitating concussion. Hell, not even an allergy. Just a bunch of “stable”s and “N/A”s. He had a prescription for something freshmen year and an extra emergency contact at a nearby hospital. 

“Middle school, huh?” Seonghwa murmurs as the files change. Grainy faxes replace smudged pen. It’s more of the same. Scores, grades, cards, testing, doctor’s notes. Hwa sighs. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he knows he’s not finding it. He hums idly as he flips through blurred images of documents, “Middle school, middle school, middle school, middle wh-”

He blinks confusedly, flipping between two pages, “What the…” He rubs his eyes and compares the two pages again. 

“The fuck?” Seonghwa mutters. He drags out one of the pictures, comparing them side by side. One is a transfer notice, along with a verification of some passed tests, the other is an old report card. Much older. Four years older, to be precise.

“That’s a four year gap,” Seonghwa says to himself. He shakes his head, “Must be out of order.” Except, it’s not. He reads the school years from one to the other. They’re sequential. He finished one grade one year, and started the next four years later.

Hwa shakes his head in disbelief and flips to another document.

  
It’s dated four years prior to the other document, too.

“What the… Fuck?” Seonghwa starts tapping the arrow key rapidly, checking date after date after date. The gap is there, plain as day in the chronologically ordered file. The skip is seamless - barely noticeable, really. On one paper is one date, the next, a date four years before. There is no highlighter or red pen, no underlining or scratched arrows. The only reason Seonghwa caught it is because of just how thoroughly he’s searching these documents. It’s consistent with the weird birth date Seonghwa’s been seeing. He’s come to understand that the birth date isn’t weird at all, it’s real - as is the gap in paperwork.

  
Kim Hongjoong is twenty-four years old, and at some point in his childhood, he sat out of school for four years.

Four years. Four years. What is the significance of that span of time? Something about it rings familiar to Seonghwa, but he can’t remember why. He’d seen it somewhere, that number, but  _ where _ ? Seonghwa continues his reading, looking for elaboration. While Hongjoong’s high school career had been far from remarkable, his elementary years paint a very different story. The elementary isn’t anywhere close to his high school, implying that Joong moved at some point as a kid. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Seonghwa furrows his brows and double checks the documents on each side of the four year gap. He flips between them, then ventures further into elementary years.

“His last name changed,” Hwa mutters. Document after document reads plain and clear: “Pan Hongjoong”. What a pecuiliar name. Seonghwa’s eager to explore it, but then something gut-wrenching crosses the screen. Hwa shakes his head, swapping to another document, then another and another.

The first major flag is a police record of a call describing a found child. Seonghwa’s heart drops. Soon, the papers involve less about school and more about Hongjoong. Or, more properly, how he was treated. Hwa’s chest tightens when he reads lines such as “parental neglect” and “suspected unfit parent”. There are records of Hongjoong being enrolled in free breakfast and lunch programs, along with faxes sent to Child Protective Services.

An old picture comes up, and suddenly breathing becomes infinitely harder for Seonghwa. It’s a simple candid from the yearbook. He’s holding up a still life of some bottles, likely something he did for art class. He’s got a little, tight-lipped smile and bright red hair. He must’ve been around nine or ten at the time. Maybe younger. It’s hard to tell, Hwa muses. Hongjoong was a tiny child. He goes flips through a few more papers. His grades weren’t as good in elementary. His parents missed almost half a dozen parent-teacher meetings - at least, that’s what the notes about rescheduling them implies. The more Seonghwa reads, the more tightly the dread in his chest coils. The final straw is a scanned note from the school nurse to the main office. It’s handwritten on stationary with kittens. It’s jarring to see fluffy cats lining the bottom of a note discussing “concerning bruises” on a child’s body. 

  
Seonghwa abruptly closes out of the photo app and clutches the edge of his desk with white knuckles. 

It takes him a few moments to compose himself. His gut reaction is overwhelming distress. His heart splinters, and all he can think about is worst case scenarios involving the other as a tiny, helpless child. He reminds himself that this is Hongjoong, the guy that stalked him. The guy that, apparently, dropped out of school for four years and was subject to years of neglect and potential physical abuse. Seonghwa runs a hand down his face exasperatedly. Try as he might, he can’t shake his base instinct to care for the redhead. In spite of everything, reading all that he has (after he freakishly posed as someone else to break into school records) just makes him want to run to the other more. 

Hwa wonders if  _ he’s _ the one who’s sick in the head. He wonders where in his life he went so wrong. What did the redhead do or say to make him feel so, so intensely? Why did he want to protect the other so bad and ignore all of the secrets he kept?

Seonghwa strikes the thoughts from his head. Ultimately, all he’s gotten is more questions. He glances at his laptop screen again, opting to change his approach. Official documents and records about the other’s life (and his own life) have gleaned nothing. 

Hwa opens up his browser and types in the search bar: “fairies”.

Instead of trying his angle - logical, real, rooted in the real world - he tries to think from the other’s angle. Seonghwa swaps searches of real people to searches about fairies. Instead of children, he reads about changelings, and he tries almost every link he finds relating back to “Neverland”.

He finds something in an online book titled  _ Encyclopedia of Fairies _ that says fairies kidnap humans or how they would leave changelings - fairy children - in place of human children. But Hongjoong seems to be himself. Or is it the real him? Hwa briefly entertains the paranoid idea, but when he reads on changeling traits, none seem to describe the redhead. However, it is also said some changelings forget they are fairies. His head starts to spin the deeper he gets into fairy lore. None of it really intersects with Hongjoong’s story or those from his childhood journal. Maddox, the one he’d written of, is a basic fairy. However there’s nothing more remarkable of note than that. 

Time slips through Seonghwa’s fingers like water. Three hours pass without Hwa noticing. It’s not until his mom’s call for dinner beckons him that he realizes he’d been staring at his laptop for so long.

Dread sits in the bottom of Seonghwa’s gut like lead. He already feels so damn full of it, he can barely put away more than a few bites of his mom’s pork. When she asks him what’s up, he distractedly makes up an excuse about school or work. She accepts it, kindly reminding him to take his things out of the dryer before they wrinkle for good.

Cleaning, tidying, and chores.

Those are things that make sense to Seonghwa. They’re tasks with a clear start and finish to them, along with instant gratification upon completion. They can occupy the hands, body and mind without being too taxing or all consuming.

Seonghwa graciously thanks his mom for the reminder and gets to work on his laundry. He throws himself into the laundry with more gusto than he’s thrown himself into anything for a long time. He promptly finishes washing, drying and folding everything, even going so far as to pressing his pants. When that doesn’t quite vent the stress bottled up inside, he vacuums his old bedroom and organizes the heap of books in his closet. He set aside a handful of old stuff to donate and reshelved the rest.

Upon the experiation of his room’s distracting stimulation, Hwa moved out into the hallway. He swept and mopped so vigorously he worked up a sweat. He proceeded to give the stairs the same treatement until almost every walkable surface in the house was sparkling. 

Even after working himself into exhaustion, Seonghwa couldn’t shake the thoughts of a certain red-haired boy. He eventually throws himself into bed, the scent of bleach lingering on his skin even after his shower. He shuts his eyes praying that sleep take him soon.

Unfortunately, it’s in that moment of vulnerability that voice in the back of his head whispers an idea that he loathed: Get his side of the story.

Seonghwa groans into his pillow, willing the ugly voice to disappear. Tiredness wins out in the end, pulling him into a restless sleep. Though he can’t quite recall the content of his dreams, he can’t shake the impression of red hair and glimmering fairy dust upon waking the next morning.

* * *

Seonghwa scans the second floor study room of the science library for a seat. He and a few of the guys agreed to meet up and do homework for the first time in eons. Well, it’s the first time in eons for Seonghwa. The truth is, ever since the entire incident with the redhead who shall not be named, Hwa’s been isolating himself. He hung out with his friends, but only in small, moderate doses. Most of his time he spent moping around in his room or finding the most remote corners of the library possibly to study in.

After the events of the past weekend, Seonghwa decided: enough is enough. He needs his friends. Even if he can’t tell them everything, at least their stupid antics can take his mind off of things. He needs a distraction now more than ever. Everything he found - what he  _ did _ \- haunts him. It’s robbed him of sleep and sanity. He constantly see-saws between wanting to burn the old journal he brought back with him for some reason and wanting to show Hongjoong. Every time he sees suite 324, Hwa’s hand itches with the urge to knock.

He hasn’t, though, nor does he plan to. In truth, he has no plans for anything. Part of him hopes that everything will go away with time, that all of it fades into nothing but a sad, dream-like memory. Occasionally, the sight of red hair or gold glitter spur the thought of Hongjoong. The pitiful part of Hwa that perpetually yearns for the redhead wants nothing more than to understand. The two halves end up cancelling one another out, resulting in complete inaction.

Hwa finds a table in a far corner with enough open spots for everyone. It’s evening which means peak library time. A prime corner spot with four seats won’t stay open for long, so Seonghwa books it. He strides so quickly that he hardly notices the black blur in his peripheral vision at first. But then, it hits him - that hint of familiarity. It prompts him to inspect the hazy black figure further, and his brows raise.

It’s Hongjoong. Head to toe in black sweats and a mask. A few tufts of red hair jut out from a black beanie. Something about him is so… Unlike himself. Seonghwa squints, studying the other from a distance. The redhead’s piercings look modest, like he’d taken a few out, and his eyebrows aren’t done. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pocket, and his shoulders are slightly hunched. He looks paler than usual for some reason. No, Seonghwa realizes. He frowns. 

Hongjoong looks dull.

The luminescent glow he always appears to naturally possess is nowhere to be seen. Seonghwa’s guts twist in spite of everything. Stalker, Hwa reminds himself harshly, he’s a stalker. As if sensing the blond’s discernment, Hongjoong looks up and makes eye contact with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa freezes like a deer in the headlights, and the two remain fixed, completely still for a long moment. The impulse to go to the other bubbles up in Seonghwa’s chest. He takes a step, and the instant he does, Hongjoong bolts. He pivots on his heel and powerwalks in the opposite direction - just like Seonghwa told him to.

The redhead ends up bumping into someone tall with broad shoulders. Hwa winces when he sees Joong had walked straight into Yunho. Yunho, ever the polite, friendly one, greets Hongjoong kindly with a genuine smile and a wave. Hongjoong mutters something and shuffles away quickly. Yunho watches the other leave, brows knit in bafflement.

Yunho’s eyes meet Seonghwa’s, and that’s when the younger student connects the dots. Hwa gestures to the table in the corner (still miraculously unoccupied), and the two meet. Seonghwa throws his bookbag onto the table and greets the other genially.

“Hey, Yunho. What’s up?”

Yunho doesn’t mince words, “Eh, not much. Hey, what was that about?” He points behind himself.

Seonghwa swallows nervously, “What was what about?”

“C’mon, I know you saw each other.”

“I- I saw who?”

“Really? Do you expect me to pretend he’s dead?” Yunho rolls his eyes. “Who do you think? Hongjoong, dummy.”

“O-Oh, right. Him,” Hwa coughs out. “Yeah, I dunno we saw each other. It was a thing, no big deal. Seems like he was leaving, so,” He shrugs.

“Hey,” Yunho’s tone drops into something more serious, and he looks at Hwa earnestly. “I know it’s none of our business, but, um, you ever gonna tell us what happened between you two?”

Seonghwa groans. Not this again.

“I told you,” The blond answers, “It’s between him and I. It’s… Not something worth talking about.”

“Okay,” Yunho nods, accepting the answer graciously. “Just know, if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m here. We all are.”

* * *

“-and so the amazon chose to live among humanity as a protector. She took a role preserving history in a museum, waiting for the day that humanity would inevitably need her help again. The end!” Seonghwa chirps, shutting the book with finality. He brought a novel from home, hoping to change up the paradigm. While the lost boys were pumped at the beginning of the story, their energy has significantly dwindled since then.

Once again, they found themselves at odds with the pirates. Hongjoong came up with the idea of doing a sneaky operation to lift some of their treasure stash. That plot got thwarted when one of the lost boys sneezed too loud, waking up half the ship. The battle that ensued was drawn out. They fought on the ship, then in the water, then on shore. Of course, per usual, the lost boys managed to escape after drawing the pirates into a trap. Seriously, for a bunch of adults, they’re not very smart. They celebrated their victory by sharing their wealth with the tribe and eating roast pig. 

Now, they fight to keep their eyelids open. 

“I’m goin’ to bed,” One of the lost boys yawns. 

“Me, too,” Another follows. One of them stubbornly insists that he’s totally wide awake only to nod off seconds later. The tallest of the lost boys carries the snoozing one off, and another two file into the den shortly after.

It’s just Seonghwa and Hongjoong, now. They’re always the last two around the fire. Hwa got used to it in the past. It was nice, his one on one time with the hyperactive, sought after leader. But now it sort of fills him with dread. Thirteen looms closer and closer every second of every day, and Hwa just wishes he could make time stop. Even if just for a little bit. The uncertainty is killing him. He feels like his birthday is an expiration date, but he’s not sure. What if it isn’t? What if he can come back? But then will the lost boys want to hang out with him when he’s a teenager? Or will they feel weirded out by him?

  
And what about Hongjoong?

“I… I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Hongjoong says quietly. He’s looking at the fire and not at Seonghwa.

  
Seonghwa frowns, “Already?” Usually Hongjoong likes to stay up. Sadness makes Hwa’s heart dip. If they truly don’t have a long time left together, how come Joong wants to spend that time asleep?

The redhead stares at the blazing flames in the clearing. Even though he said he wanted to go to bed, his body doesn’t move one bit. The look in his eye is absent. His knuckles are white, strained from clutching something in his lap. Hwa didn’t even notice he had something. The black-haired boy timidly crosses over to the log Hongjoong’s sitting on. Even when he stands next to the leader, the redhead keeps his gaze fixed on the blazing flames.

“What’s that?” Seonghwa asks, purposely blocking Joong’s view and making the leader look at him. He tilts his head curiously and smiles, “Did you wanna read that? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a story picked out. We can read it now if you want.”

“No,” Hongjoong answers flatly. He almost sounds mad.

Seonghwa frowns, “Oh. Okay. What, um, what story did you bring out with you? Why’d you bring it out?” He forces a light laugh even though he feels sort of nervous. Bad vibes radiate off of Hongjoong like the heat of the fire. Hwa wonders if something is the matter.

“You’re probably familiar with this one,” Hongjoong replies. He doesn’t sound like himself. His tone is strained and tense. “It’s called The Sleeping Beauty.” He turns the book over in his hands a few times before flipping to a particular page. Face expressionless, Hongjoong trhows the book onto the ground at Seonghwa’s feet.

Flickering firelight illuminates the page. Aching pain hits Seonghwa square in the chest as he reads the passage that Joong threw at him with scarcely suppressed anger:

“-and the prince kissed the sleeping beauty, caressing her fair cheek. Love swelled in his heart as he poured his affections into the gesture. The sleeping beauty opened her eyes and smiled upon looking at her love, awoken by true love’s kiss...”

Seonghwa tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. Why is Hongjoong showing him this? Why is he so angry? When he glances at Hongjoong again, the other’s eyes are boring into him, dark and wet. 

“Get out,” Hongjoong snarls.

“Get out,” the boy snarls at Seonghwa. For the life of him, Seonghwa cannot understand why.  _ Why? _

Hot tears stream down the older boy’s face, “But- But Hongjoong-” 

“I said get out!” The other shouts again. His face is angry, cheeks tinted a blazing red nearly matching the fiery tones of his hair...

* * *

Seonghwa bursts up, thorough disturbation clawing at his insides as he abruptly wakes. Tears stream down his face, and his chest throbs with agony. He’d had dreams like this before - terrible, hazy things that left him feeling despair and loss. Usually, the sensation would fade as he brushed his teeth, trying to remember what scene his subconscious had played out for him.

Not this time, though.

This time, the memory is there, real and vivid, burned into his mind with the rippling intensity of the fire he’d been standing by. A few minutes pass where all Seonghwa can do is steady himself. The emotions, though from a time long before, feel raw and real - because they  _ are _ . Seonghwa huddles his knees to his chest as they crash over him just as they had in the past, just days before his thirteenth birthday. Seonghwa begs the question:

How could he have possibly forgotten this?

“Shit,” Hwa hisses to himself in the dark room. He buries his face in his knees, shuddering from the violent sobs wracking through his body. “Shit, shit, shit.” He clutches himself tightly, riding out the worst of the pain. His cries are the suffocating kind, the kind that squeeze so much out of him that he can barely breathe or make a sound. Seonghwa can’t remember the last time he’s cried so much,  _ felt  _ so much. 

The agony of reliving Hongjoong’s harsh rejection compounds with how real it all felt. What if Hongjoong is right? What if all of it is true?

The dreams. The blackouts. The strange instances of deja vu. 

A bombardment of memories flood his mind. A flittering fairy and a treasure box, a jungle tribe and a waterfall. Hongjoong sitting on a mountain peak as snow falls gently from the sky. Visions assault him, too fantastical to be real yet too visceral to not be. Utter confusion sends him whirling, adding to the already all consuming sensations of sorrow and despair.

Impulsively, Seonghwa paws around for his phone. The time reads close to three in the morning, but he doesn’t care. He unlocks it and punches the call button on the contact he couldn’t bring himself to delete. 

  
Then, he waits.

He sniffles and wipes a hand down his face, gradually coming down from the peak of misery. The call drops, and Hwa glares at his phone. He tries again, and the same thing happens.

He tries again.

And again and again.

After failed call number seven, he gives up on calling and taps out a text, not even caring if he’s woken the other up. Frantically, he sends the message:

(You): we need to talk

He watches the loading bar fill out, indicating it’s been sent, then waits. The seconds it takes for the message to go from “sent” to “read” are excruciating. 

“ **Hongjoong💖 ** is typing…”

Hwa’s heart flips in his chest when he reads the prompt. He feels pathetic for never changing the other’s contact name, but there’s so much more going on in his head that he doesn’t bother doing it. Instead, he watches the dancing little dots in the message window like a hawk. After a minute that feels like twenty, a response pops up.

**Hongjoong💖: ** i’m sorry about earlier in the library

**Hongjoong💖** : i tried to get out as fast as possible

**Hongjoong💖:** bumping into yunho was an honest accident

**Hongjoong💖** : i promise i didn’t say anything other than a polite greeting

**Hongjoong💖** : i want you to know i have been doing research and exploring options to address my mental health

**Hongjoong💖** : i promise to stay away from you and the guys

**Hongjoong💖** : once again i apologize for everything, please know i intend no harm on you or your loved ones

Seonghwa huffs annoyedly. How is the other such a damn fast texter? His heart dips into his stomach reading the messages. Before the deferent show of fear would’ve probably made him ecstatic. But now, he just feels sort of like a jerk. Did he really seem that threatening last time they talked? He responds.

(You): this isn’t about that

**Hongjoong💖 ** is typing…

(You): i think i believe you

(You): about neverland

(You): about everything

(You): we need to talk

The “ **Hongjoong💖 ** is typing” prompt disappears.

Seonghwa waits. He waits and waits. He keeps his phone open on the message window for five minutes, then ten. He half expects to hear a knock on the door, but after near an hour, he gives up. The little note under his last sent message taunts him:

“Read ✓”.

The blond curses before throwing himself back onto his bed. Why is he being difficult now? After everything they’ve gone through - which is a lot more than Hwa originally knew - one would think he’d be willing to talk.

Seonghwa falls asleep quickly. One moment, his head’s on his pillow and he’s worrying about Hongjoong and his memories. The next, he’s fast asleep. 

This time, he doesn’t dream.

* * *

Seonghwa shakes his umbrella out a few times before entering his dorm. Mother nature is apparently just as depressed as he is, and her coping mechanism is pouring every last tear she’s got onto the poor humans below. The dreary weather does nothing to help the perpetual headache straining at Seonghwa’s temples. It contributes to the overall achey pain weighing his limbs down and dulling his mind. Even though he’s attended all of his classes per usual, he feels as if he's retained nothing. It’s draining, and even though he should be studying, Seonghwa’s already set on taking a nap. He can’t wait to shed his damp outer layers and throw himself under his dry, warm blankets.

The blond drags himself up the steps and across the hall. His room is finally in sight when something in the distance catches his eye. The splotch of red in his peripherals sends him into a frenzy. Without even thinking, Hwa bolts to his room. He throws his bookbag and wet boots off before searching his desk frantically. He grabs his old journal and throws on dry sandals before jumping back out his door. Luckily, the splotch of red is still present, ambling slowly down the hall with his eyes on his phone.

Something (maybe the sound of Hwa breathing heavily, or his entirely too fast footsteps) prompts Hongjoong to turn around. His eyes go wide when they meet Seonghwa’s, and he turns around picking up into a fast walk. Hwa throws his hands up in exasperation and follows at the other’s heels.

  
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says. All he gets in response is a faster walking pace from the other. “Wh- Hongjoong,” Hwa tries again. No response. “Hey, you don’t have to run away from me. I just want to tal-”

Hongjoong breaks out into an almost comical power-walk. Any faster and he’d actually be running from Seonghwa. Not eager to literally chase the other down, Seonghwa trots toward the other and grabs him by the hood of his sweatshirt. He yanks with more force than intended, and the redhead lets out a choking sound as he lurches back. 

“I just want to talk,” Seonghwa says insistently, forcing the other to look him in the eye. Hongjoong shrinks beneath the other’s insistence. He tries to back away, but his back hits a wall.

“I said I was sorry,” Hongjoong responds in a strained tone. His pupils flit around, and he fiddles with the hem of his hoodie as he speaks. “But if you need to hear it again, I’m sorry.”

“That isn’t what I’m asking for!” Seonghwa throws his hands up in exasperation. The other cowers from the big gesture, actually flinching as if he’s afraid he’ll get hit. Seonghwa’s heart dips, and he takes a few steadying breaths. He just chased the other down in the hall and grabbed him, of course Hongjoong thinks he’s ready to beat him up. In truth, Hwa still isn’t a hundred percent certain he shouldn’t beat Hongjoong up. That’s why he called out for him in the first place. He needs some type of clarity. Answers.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hwa elaborates more calmly, “Hongjoong I want to talk.”

“About what-?”

“Just- Just let me finish. I want to hear your side of the story. About-” He lowers his voice to a whisper, “-about Neverland. The lost boys. Everything.”

Hongjoong doesn’t say anything. His gaze is turned pointedly to the ground. After a pregnant pause, he responds:

“Why now?” The question comes out low and quivering. He picks his gaze up off the ground and returns it to Seonghwa’s own. More confidently, he repeats the question, “Why now? What changed?”

Seonghwa sighs. Anxiousness fizzles in his chest, sparks discharging into his throat and stomach as he turns to a page in his old journal. He hands it over to Hongjoong without a word. The redhead takes it, initially baffled. He eyes the page, and realization visibly dawns on him. His tight, tense expression loosens into one of curiosity, then wonder, until finally settling on scarcely suppressed amusement. 

“Nice drawing,” Hongjoong ventures the joke. “Looks familiar.”

“It’s mine,” Seonghwa tells the other. “From about a decade ago. Go ahead, you can read the entries if you like. I bet some of that stuff will sound familiar.” 

Hongjoong obliges the other and nods. He turns a few pages, the edges of his lips twitching with an almost-there smile. The redhead hands the journal back and gnaws on his lower lip a few more moments before finally giving his answer:

“Okay,” Hongjoong says in a low voice. “I’ll talk.”

“Just- Just know it doesn’t change anything,” Seonghwa adds out impulsively. It’s not like things are just going to go back to the way they were. Not that he wants that. Because he doesn’t. He just needs answers is all. That’s a point he stresses when his eyes settle on the other’s pink, plush lower lip. He tears them away and coughs out more words. “This- This doesn’t mean I, like, totally believe everything you’ve said or trust you.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replies flatly.

“Is my room okay?” Seonghwa asks. “Figure it’s private.”

“That’s fine. I was just gonna get food, but it’s really not urgent.”

“Yeah. Just, um, could you… Could you bring that thing with you?”

“That thing?” Hongjoong’s brows raise inquisitively.

“The notebook.”

“Oh- Uh, sure. I’ll be, uh, right there,” The redhead distractedly strides off to his room, and Seonghwa returns to his own. He rushes to do some rapid fire tidying, properly stowing his carelessly thrown things and clearing off space on the egg chair for Hongjoong. Minutes later, a soft knock comes through the door, and Seonghwa almost wipes out when he dashes over to answer it.

The redhead enters, a bundle of nerves. He fidgets with the frayed papers sticking out of his notebook as he walks in. Seonghwa watches the other carefully. He sees the other’s eyes fall on the egg chair, then the bed. An invasive memory of things they’d done on that bed flashes through Seonghwa’s mind. He blinks rapidly to clear it, willing the heat rising to his cheeks to dissipate.

Hongjoong opts to remain standing. He leans against the wall by Seonghwa’s closet, clutching his notebook as if it’s a security blanket.

“So,” Hongjoong breaths out, “What, um, what did you want to-”

“Who _are_ you?” Seonghwa blurts out. He couldn’t hold it in much longer. He’d come to know so much about Hongjoong yet none of it made sense, none of it told him who Kim Hongjoong really is.

“Uh, I’m- I’m just me, really. I’m not trying to decieve you.”

“Are you human?”

“I- What?”

“Or are you a changeling? A- A fairy-”

  
“Whoa- what? Seonghwa, are you-”

“No, you’re right. That’s stupid. How old are you?”

  
“I- Wh- I’m- College age,” Hongjoong sputters out, his ears tinting the same red as his hair.

“Were you ever gonna tell me that you’re older than me or was that detail just gonna stay hidden?”

“Ex-Excuse me?”

“_Why_ are you older than me, though?” Seonghwa asks.

“I- Why? Did you just ask me _why_ I’m my age?”

“Where is Neverland, anyway?” The questions keep pouring out one after the other indiscriminately. Hwa can’t stop himself. Everything that’s been torturing him for the past few weeks, everything he’d kept bottled up, just pours out.

“I- Seonghwa, I don’t exactly know.”

“How did you find it?”

“I didn’t find it by myself. I was guided there.”

“By who?”

“His name is- er, was Maddox.”

  
“Was he a fairy?”

“Uh-”

“Have I been to Neverland?”

“W-Well, yea-”

“Did we meet there?”

“Um, no-”

“How did _you_ find Neverland?”

“I told you-”

“Where did you come from?”

“Huh?”

“And who are the lost boys?”

“I- I don’t exaclty remember them.”

  
“What?!” Seonghwa gawks. “How? In all your notes and everything you don’t remember who we hung out with that entire time?”

“I- Wait,” Hongjoong takes a pause, “Hold up are you… You said ‘we hung out with’, so… You do remember-” His voice gets small and timid as he squeaks out the question, “-you remember Neverland?”

“Of course I remember Neverland!” Seonghwa snaps. His eyes blow wide open and clamps his hand over his mouth. “I mean- I- I mean, I… I don’t know, okay? I remember… Something.”

“You remember _something_?” Hongjoong quirks an eyebrow. He remains firmly fastened to the wall, a tense coil of curiosity and nerves.

Seonghwa’s shoulders slump, and he lets out a loud breath, “I… I don’t know, okay? That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Wh- How can I tell you what you’re remembering?”

“I- I don’t know, okay. You just seem like sort of the expert since you’ve been obsessively researching the topic - and  _ me  _ \- for years.”

“So? You told me yourself that you’re not sure you even believe me. So why bother? I mean- If I tell you my side of the story, are you gonna trust me, or are you just gonna pull a restraining order on me?” Hongjoong responds bitterly.

“If I promise not to call the police on you,  _ then  _ will you tell me?”

“ _ Wow _ ,” The redhead huffs out. “That is  _ so  _ missing the point. You know what, just, um, just keep thinking I’m crazy.” He shakes his head and starts heading toward the door. “I don’t know why I bothered...”

“Wait-!” Seonghwa lunges after the other. “Wait, wait, wait, wait-” He yanks Hongjoong by the back of his sweatshirt again. “Wait, Hongjoong, please, just- I’m- I’m confused, okay?”

“So, what?” When the redhead turns around, he’s face to face with Seonghwa. The two are close, and the proximity sends a jolt of unease through Hwa’s spine. The other’s eyes look wet, and his lip quivers slightly - a vast contrast to his adamant words, “You wanna interrogate me so you can sleep easier at night? Get whatever answers satisfy you then just throw me away again?” He huffs. “I don’t think so. You’re confused? Too bad. That’s not my problem.”

Seonghwa feels like he’s going crazy. No, he thinks to himself: he is going crazy. Actually, not going crazy. He’s just _gone crazy_. The frat boy cosplay should’ve been the flashing neon sign pointing him to that fact, but his impetuous mind somehow managed to gloss over that. War wages between his logical self and his emotional self. They battle it out with the goal of determining once and for all: what is real and what is just fairytales? The cogs in his head grind together as he attempts to properly word his thoughts. He takes a deep breath and combs through the tangled mess of his memories. Hongjoong’s hand is on the door handle when Seonghwa answers:

“From what I recall, you were the one who threw me away,” Seonghwa says, his voice just a low hum.

Hongjoong’s hand drops off of the handle, “What did you say?” He asks without turning toward the other.

“I- I remember that. I think I do, anyway,” Seonghwa responds. “It feels too real not to be a memory.”

“What does?”

“You kicked me out,” Seonghwa replies. Just mentioning it drags up the wretched emotions associated with the memory once more. “You told me I had to leave. I- I remembered that the day I called you, like, seven times. Um, a few days ago. You… You told me I wasn’t welcome anymore, but you never said why.”

When the redhead turns around, the color’s drained from his face. His mouth is pressed into a thin line. Without another word, he passes Seonghwa in the narrow hall and settles back into his spot on the wall.

“What do you want to know?” The redhead asks.

  
Seonghwa blinks confusedly for a second before following the other back into his room, “I- I want to know everything. I apologize if I sounded combative before, I just- like I said I’m confused. I- I don’t know what’s real or what isn’t anymore. And now I- I’m wondering just how much I’ve forgotten.”

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong replies quietly. “I’ve been there.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, um, sort of. Look, I can answer your questions, but I think it might be easier if I just… Start from the beginning and tell you everything I know.”

“Right,” Hwa nods. “Um, why don’t you just, yeah, just tell me your perspective, then.” He hops onto his bed and takes a seat, crossing his arms in front of himself tight. An amalgamation of worries and nerves wriggle in his gut unnervingly. He tries to ignore the coiling sensation and let the other say his piece.

Hongjoong takes a deep breath and nods, “Okay. Okay I can do that, but please, promise me you’re not gonna just- just throw me out halfway through because it sounds ridiculous, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Thanks,” Hongjoong nods. He tucks his thumb under the pages of his notebook and runs it up the wad of paper slowly. He watches the pages fall rapidly as if he was watching a flip book animate. The nonsense gesture apparently calmed him, because when he starts talking again, he’s much more composed. Coolly, he starts:

“Not to sound corny, but honestly - it all started when I was born,” The redhead flips to a page in his notebook and tosse it onto the bed next to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa raises an inquisitve eyebrow at the other. Hongjoong nods, giving a nonverbal go ahead, and Hwa glances at the open page. A single picture sits right in the middle, affixed to the page with yellowed tape. It’s obviously old, a grainy image developed from the film cameras of yore. A woman with a squinty eye smile beams at the camera. In her lap sits a newborn infant, and she hugs the baby close. A blur of deep red hair just barely peeks out from the edge of the frame. Hwa studies the infant more closely, and raises his brows.

“This is you?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yup,” Hongjoong replies.

“And your mother.”

“Yup.”

“You two look beautiful,” Seonghwa says. She genuinely does. He’s not super sentimental usually, but there’s something about a young mother that just strikes him as captivating. “Happy, too. She’s got a really pretty, big smile.”

“Yeah, probably because she was tweaking,” Hongjoong replies with venom in his voice.

“Oh,” Seonghwa grunts dumbly. The blunt comment knocked the wind out of his lungs; he wasn’t prepared at all to hear that.

Hongjoong picks up where he left off, “It’s a nice picture, though, isn’t it?” He lets out a completely humorless laugh. “You even catch a glimpse of my dad. Now that’s  _ rare _ .” 

Seonghwa glances at the picture again. The tiny sliver of pink-toned flesh and rust red hair - is that him?

“He ran off  _ real  _ quick after that,” Hongjoong continues bitterly. “All he left was a funny last name. No note, no explanation that I know of. Not even a sock or as shirt. Just a lame last name that my mother decided she wanted me to have. Pan.”

The puzzle piece slots in perfectly, and Seonghwa gasps at the discovery. That alone explains so much. The issues in elementary, the strange last name. He doesn’t dare interrupt the other to inform him of his stalking, though. Instead, Hwa nods politely, urging the other to continue.

Hongjoong moves along, “It was just mom and me for, um, for awhile. I…” His eyes get a faraway look in them, and his lips turn down at the edges. “Looking back, I think she did love me, but just- just not as much as she loved a good high. Heroin was her drug of choice. She liked to snort it. Used to tell me it was sugar.” His tone lifts up as if in amusement, but there’s an abysmal hollowness in his eyes that says otherwise. Hearing the tale drives a dagger into Seonghwa’s heart. He probably wouldn’t believe it if he hadn’t actually read everything for himself.

“You know,” Hongjoong adds bemusedly. “Fun fact, a not-so-common street name for heroin is ‘fairy dust’- Heh. Isn’t that something?” He shakes his head, acidity radiating off of him in an almost palpable aura.

“Fun facts aside,” The redhead continues, “Her hobby got her a lot of friends. Mom was popular, and, like I get it. My mom was cute and she was always very welcoming, I guess. I dunno. She had a lot of ‘friends’. A lot of boyfriends. They came by the house all the time. Sometimes they lived with us,” He shrugs. “By the time I could walk to school myself, I was basically left to my own devices. She’d be in the living room, hanging out with her, uh, friends. I’d get put upstairs. ‘Don’t come down if there isn’t blood’, she’d say. Some of her friends were nice. Some I knew for years. Others… Not so much. I- I promise there’s a point to this, I’m not just dumping my childhood stuff on you for a reason.”

Seonghwa shakes his head vigorously, “No, no say- say what you think is necessary.” He doesn’t want to admit that, for some odd reason, he’s drinking this up. Hongjoong has him in a vice, locking his attention in further with every word he says. It’s not that Seonghwa likes hearing about this. On the contrary, it makes him severely uncomfortable on so many levels. It wounds him to hear that someone he cared (or perhaps still cares) about went through so much shit. It also forces him to confront the fact that he didn’t have to grow up in a situation like that. He starts thinking of all the nice things he had growing up that he’d taken for granted. Suddenly, his mom’s habit of checking on him in his sleep makes him fond instead of weirded out. Just as he considers sending her flowers as a surprise the redhead resumes his story.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong says softly. The overt tensity surrounding him slackens a little more. It soothes Seonghwa slightly to watch the other relax - even if just a little bit. It’s not as if he wants the other to be  _ too  _ relaxed. He’s just glad Hongjoong doesn’t look like he’s holding his breath and is bound to pass out at any second.

The redhead picks up where he left off, “But, um, yeah, so my mom- and her friends. They were- It was a thing. Some of them were cool, actually. One of her friends was a hair stylist- she got me set up with the red hair. Mom  _ hated  _ it, said it reminded her of my father. So, of course being the shit I am, I insisted on keeping it. This- this one boyfriend she had actually got me a game system for Christmas one year. I was sad to see him go. Um, others, though, others weren’t so nice. She didn’t seem to care either way, though. As long as she got her stuff, she was good.

“Sometimes, I, um, I wonder if the reason I could talk to fairies was because she was using while she was pregnant with me,” He lets out another airy, dry chuckle. “The first time I ran away was around… Five I think. Maybe six. Didn’t get too far, obviously. I walked to the, uh, the corner store. I just remember I had it set in my head I’d get a popsicle, and I’d be set. Just live a new life.”

Seonghwa grips his sheets tightly. His knuckles go white as he anchors himself to the bed. It’s the only way he can stop himself from throwing himself at the other and hugging him. He nods at the other - a gentle reassurance that he’s still listening.

Hongjoong nods and keeps talking, “I, um, I ran away a few times after that. I got better. Got sneakier. A lot sneakier. Started disappearing for longer periods of time. I’d say I was going to school then just… Walk in a direction. Of course, every time I got home my mom would be a sobbing mess, all apologetic and pissy. If I was lucky, the boyfriend of the week would let her handle it, if not,  _ he  _ handled it. 

“After awhile, CPS caught on, though. I was eight, and the fuckers finally thought: gee, this kid leaves home a lot. Wonder what’s up with that. They took me away and my sweet, naive little self thought that was it. I’d be free and happy at the group home with a bunch of other kids. Boy was I wrong.”

He gets quiet for a minute. Seonghwa lets the silence sit in the air. He can tell by the way the other holds himself tight that he’s struggling. This isn’t nearly as easy as he’s trying to make it look.

“I was shocked to learn that it was worse,” Hongjoong adds after taking a pause. “I mean, some parts of it were better, but I just-” He shakes his head. “-no. I felt so… Abandoned and lost. The other kids varied- as humans do. Some were nice, some weren’t. Some were just as mean as I imagine their parents were. So, I ran away from there, too. Did that a few times. Got reprimanded. Got told that a kid my age behaving the way I do is never gonna get adopted. That I’ll always be a screw up, I’ll end up like my mother. Because, you know, that’s _ totally fine  _ to tell an eight year old.

“Then, one day, age eleven, I did it again. To be honest, I…” He takes a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t wanna return. Not- not to the group home, I just- I didn’t want to-” He chokes up, and Seonghwa stops breathing.” The redhead coughs loudly, “Anyway. I ran away at age eleven, but that time was different, because when I left that day, I never came back.”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide, and he whispers, “Neverland.”

Hongjoong nods, “Yeah, this is where it gets sort of hard to believe- as if my pathetically cliche tragic childhood wasn’t hard enough to believe. See, I did my thing where I, like, run away. I- I always made it a game. I’d dodge people, go into alleyways, duck into ditches- it made me feel like, like a secret agent or something. I don’t know.

“And this one day I end up getting really far out, walking through a few backyards until I end up in some sort of wodded area. That is when I run into a little twinkley thing I think is a bug at the time. It’s the middle of the day, so seeing a lightning bug, like, blew my mind. Turns out fairies don’t take kindly to being called bugs.

“A little guy named Maddox gave me an earful of  _ colorful  _ expletives when I trapped him in my hands. I… I don’t know why, or what it was about me, about him, but Maddox said I had magic in me. He told me he knew of a place for kids like me. A beautiful land full of magic and wonder. He told me the land provided all anyone could need: food, water, shelter, adventure - and we’d never grow up.

“You’d think an eleven year old would be over fairytales, right?” Hongjoong shakes his head and scrunches his nose. “Not me, though. I had given up on the real world already. Figured a world full of magic couldn’t be much worse. So, I followed him. He sprinkled fairy dust on me and showed me the way. I… I never looked back after that.”

Hongjoong begins to thaw as he recounts his early impressions of Neverland, “I- I remember being so nervous about flying at first. Maddox was so nice to show me the ropes, and soon I was a pro. Nobody could beat me.”

“I know,” Seonghwa adds. He doesn’t know  _ how  _ he knows, but he knows.

The comment makes Hongjoong stop for a second. The redhead studies Hwa up and down, and he presses his lips together as if biting something back - a remark perhaps? A smile? Seonghwa doesn’t know. He stays silent, allowing the other to elaborate.

“Neverland was  _ everything _ ,” Hongjoong sighs happily. “It truly provided everything I needed. Beautiful, fresh waterfalls and a lush forest full of fruit trees. The beaches had sand so soft, it was like walking on a pillow. It was a no-brainer. I decided that Neverland was my home. The tribe welcomed me with open arms, even helping me find somewhere to call my own.

“I had everything. Everything except friends. The people of the tribe were kind, but they weren’t my people. After awhile on my own, I talked to Maddox, and he informed me I could go back to the place I used to be. So, I did. I thought maybe watching people would kind of sate the low key homesickness I had. What I found instead was… Other boys. Boys like me who, in some way or another, were forgotten. They were unwanted, rejected, bullied, neglected. Lost. I recruited him much like Maddox did me. We played and embarked on glorious adventures. Battled some pirates, hunted for treasure - you know. All that good stuff.

“And then, one day my shadow let loose,” Hongjoong looks down at his feet. The recessed light in Hwa’s room paints a splotch of dark underneath the redhead. “The pest just detached itself and ran off on me. It slipped in through some kid’s cracked window. Maddox chased after it, but he got, like, stuck in a drawer. So, of course I had to go in myself after it.

“Slipped into this kid’s room to nab my shadow only to find that the kid was wide awake. Staring me right in the face was none other than a young Park Seonghwa,” Hongjoong gestures to Seonghwa. “You helped me wrangle my shadow and, of course, that meant you were good people. I invited you to come to Neverland, and you did. Does… Any of this ring bells?”

Seonghwa searches his memory. He strains himself trying to will the images to come to mind. All he gets are blurred insinuations. The image of a shadow flitting around his childhood bedroom briefly pops up, but it dissolves far too quick for him to make sense of it. Though his own recollection fails him, hearing the story does inspire a sort of deja vu. 

“I can’t say I do remember, exactly,” The blond concedes. “But that’s not to say I don’t totally believe it, either,” He adds.

Hongjoong shrugs, “I- I didn’t think you would. But, um, yeah we went on like, tons of little adventures and stuff. Fought those dumbass pirates almost every other day. Nearly got drowned by mermaids. Partied with the tribe, flew through the sky… It was a beautiful life for a few years. We had fun, all of us. You… You were very important to me back then. To us.”

“But you… You kicked me out,” Seonghwa remarks. “That is the one thing I can remember crystal clear. You were pretty adamant about me leaving, though you never told me why.”

Hongjoong heaves a sigh, and his gaze drops to the floor, “Neverland had rules, Seonghwa.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You had to be a good soul to reside there - save for the pirates. Don’t know how they managed to slip through.”

“Was I not a good soul?”

“You had to believe in magic.”

“I- I’m sure I did at the time.”

“And- and you could never grow up.”

“Wh- What was I? Twelve? Thirteen? That’s hardly grown up.”

“Yeah, it’s- it was stupid, I know-”

“I think there’s something more to it,” Seonghwa says defiantly. He hops off of his bed to get closer to the other. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Seonghwa, I- One of the rules was- was broken or something, so- so you couldn’t be there,” Hongjoong replies nervously. His pupils dance around the room, and he keeps nibbling his lower lip.

“Hongjoong, I- I barely remember anything about Neverland, and the one thing I do - the one thing I can see so clearly - is that moment. The moment you- you kicked me out. It’s not just what happened, either, but I- I can feel how I felt. It’s like I’m reliving it every time I dream of that.”

“I’m- I’m sorry to hear that, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong responds stiffly. “It wasn’t easy seeing you go.”

“You were miserable, too,” Seonghwa replies honestly. “I know you were. I could tell by looking at you. And I just- I don’t know what was going on but just- just judging by how much it hurt- it wasn’t just because I grew up. I mean- Was I even thirteen then? You personally, like, banished me for- for what?”

“I…” Hongjoong pauses. He braves a gaze into Seonghwa’s eyes, and what Seonghwa finds beneath those eyes surprises him. It’s not adamance or anger. It’s guilt and grief. “I never said  _ you  _ broke a rule, Seonghwa.”

“I didn- Wait, what?”

The redhead wrings a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath to fortify himself before explaining.

“Seonghwa, I- I had a stupid crush on you,” Hongjoong’s voice is puny, laced with so much guilt and shame. “I… I was… As in- in love with you as an eleven year old who’d been eleven for- for three years at the time could possibly be.” His face flushes, and he covers it, disgraced with himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I- Wait you- you what?” Seonghwa’s brain ceases function. He heard “I” and “love” and “you” come out of Hongjoong’s mouth. The word combination coming from the redhead renders him braindead for a few minutes, which allows Hongjoong to give better reasoning.

Uncovering his face, the redhead admits, “I had the biggest crush on you, Seonghwa. I was just… Head over heels for you, and I- that  _ scared  _ me!” He lets out a humorless laugh. “That scared me  _ so much _ because- because crushes and love were for grown ups. And if I- if I felt that way about someone, that meant that  _ I _ was growing up, that I was breaking a rule. And- and then I’d get taken out of another home. The- the only home I felt safe and loved in. I just… I couldn’t cope with that.” His voice thickens, and tears well up in his eyes, “So- so in my stupid, idiotic kid head, I thought it was simple. No Seonghwa, no feelings-” He sniffs loudly, averting his gaze from Seonghwa’s. “I really thought that was it. So I threw you out. I never talked to you about it. Never even gave you a chance for a decent goodbye. I gave up on you, on our friendship, on what- what maybe could’ve been. Y’know. As far as, uh, kid romance goes anyway.” He forces out a breathy laugh.

“So, um, yeah I owe you an apology for that,” Hongjoong says resolutely. “Seonghwa I am very, very sorry for throwing you out so suddenly and never talking to you about it.”

  
Seonghwa frowns. Strangely enough, part of him feels vindicated. He supposes that, deep down, he’d been waiting for that apology for a long time. 

“I… I forgive you for that,” Seonghwa says, giving the other a weak smile. “You had your reasons.”

“My reasons were selfish. I just- I was so afraid of losing Neverland. I lost someone who I called my best friend once upon a time. Oh, and I’m here, so-” Hongjoong waves to himself. “You can see how well that all worked out for me.”

“Hongjoong, what happened?” Seonghwa asks. At this point he’s more genuinely curious than anything else. He feels as if most his questions have been answered - at least the ones Hongjoong  _ can  _ answer. There’s still the matter of why he stalked Seonghwa, but Hwa assumes that’ll come up. Being in the other’s presence has softened Seonghwa’s impression of him considerably. Hongjoong doesn’t strike him as manic or undone - just desperate. Hwa broke into a highschool archives room in a fit of desperation. At this point, he thinks it hypocritical to villainize Hongjoong for doing the same after  _ years  _ of trauma.

“Well,” Hongjoong replies, “I was wrong. When you left, I- I don’t know why or how, but, everything just got worse. I couldn’t stop wondering why Neverland would have such strict rules, and, I guess that made my belief in the magic dwindle. I sort of became unbearable, lashing out at the lost boys who I thought of as brothers. I was pretty nasty, and I successfully pushed a couple away for good. 

“Even Neverland itself seemed pissed off at me. The skies used to be blue every day, but they got dark and stormy. The temperature dropped - I remember shivering in my bed, absolutely freezing toward the tail end of my time there. There was rain, sleet, snow - not the pretty, little flakes either. It was just a mess. I think, during my final days there, part of me knew that my time was up. I just- I knew it was over. Whatever enchantment and wonder the land once held had gone. It was over.

“So, one day, I fell asleep in the den per usual, and I woke up somewhere dark and completely unfamiliar. All I had was… Was a bottle of fairy dust and the clothes on my back. The place was dark, impossiby dark. Not even the glow of fairy dust could light my way. And I remember just, like, feeling around and it was nothing. Just hard rock- well, I thought it was rock. Reality came crashing down on me that day - like, almost literally. There was a huge boom, and the entire place shook. I was terrified. I tried to run. Couldn’t stand all the way up, so I crawled and crawled and crawled until I saw a light. I was so disoriented, it was like I’d just woken up from a really long nap.

“Eventually I reached the mouth of the den to discover it wasn’t a den, it was a sewage pipe or something. The noises I heard were construction. Needless to say, it caused a hell of a scene. Bet those construction workers crapped themselves when they saw a child crawling around their site.”

“Holy shit,” Seonghwa breathes out. He eyes the notebook Hongjoong had thrown onto his bed. “It’s- That’s in here, right?” He asks for permission before rifling through it. Joong nods, and Hwa turns the pages rapidly until he lands on the one he’d seen before:

“Missing Child Found In Sewer Pipe After Five Years: First responders call him a ‘miracle child’...”

“Hell of a story, isn’t it?” Hongjoong remarks facetiously. “While Neverland is a blur to you, _that_ part of my life is a blur to me. There was… A lot of yelling. Hospital visits. Got sent back to the group home, of course. _Loved_ that. They had me checked out by almost every kind of doctor imagineable. Neurologist, psychiatrist, cardiologist, optometrist, dentist, endocrinologist- oh the endocrinologists loved me. All of them scratched their heads and asked the same question.”

“How does a kid disappear for five years and not show any sign of aging,” Seonghwa fills in the blank.

“Yup,” Joong clicks his tongue. “Oh, it baffled the heck out of them. Not gonna lie, that part amused me. Of course, I was smart enough not to say anything. I may not have been the smartest kid, but I knew enough not to trust grown-ups - especially ones with needles. I knew if I told anybody what really happened, I’d get locked up forever and forced to talk to a shrink for the rest of my life. I just let ‘em scratch their heads. The doctors were  _ baffled _ , the press was  _ baffled _ , the people at the group home were  _ baffled _ . I mean- Who doesn’t love a good survival story, right?

“They kept my name out of the papers, but it got around on the down low. A couple of priests came over to the group home one time to, like, pray over me or something. They seemed set on the whole heavenly miracle narrative. The scientific community attempted to rationalize it. I specifically remember a single visitor to the home being the only one who got it right. Now, everyone else probably thought she was crazy, but I thought she was the smartest adult I’d met since surfacing. Her name was Lupe - an old bruja lady with like ten thousand rings. She said with  _ confidence _ , that it was the work of fairies and magic. Funny the little details about people we remember.”

“Damn,” Seonghwa breathes out, leaning against his bed. “So you were popular.”

“Mhm,” Joong nods. “Yeah, normally eleven year olds don’t adopt out fast. Or at all. Let alone sixteen year olds with apparent severe developmental orders that make them appear and act eleven. But, I had a story. I was the miracle boy, a survivor. And, somehow, that made me a hot commodity. I had my pick of the litter. At first it was really, really uncomfortable getting all of that attention, but I got used to it. I wanted to get out, so I played nice. Charmed my way through interview after interview.

“That’s how I met the Kims, mom and dad now. They were nice. An older couple who could never have kids. Didn’t seem like clout chasers or too tryhard. They said they gave up hope on having a family of their own. Told me that hearing my story inspired them - that if I could survive against the odds for years, maybe they could have a family. They told me that they… They started to believe in miracles again because of me. I liked that,” He shrugs. “It was like, the closest thing to believing in magic I saw from older people.

“So, I became Kim Hongjoong. Having structure in my life was definitely an adjustment. Like, they had rules. Curfews. Got on me when my grades were slipping, actually came to my choir concerts. So, I finished middle school. Went onto a regular high school - which was boring. Kept everyone at an arm’s distance and held onto the memory of Neverland like my life depended on it. God, I remember trying to- to tell myself the directions every night.”

“Did you try to go back?” Seonghwa asks. 

Joong nods, “I sprinkled myself with tons of fairy dust. I tried to fly every day, but… I lost it. I mean, I- I can sort of, I dunno, hover-ish. Yeah, I don't do parkour, and yes, I did jump off that building. I, uh, I never stopped trying to take to the sky. But I can’t  _ fly _ . Not anymore. Didn’t stop me from attempting, though! Got in trouble for wearing glitter to school every day,” He chuckles. “I just, like, adamantly opposed engaging with the outside world outside of bare minimum. Rise of passage like dating, sex, drugs, big parties, even dances scared me. I thought that- that doing stuff like that would make me grow up, and I’d just stray further and further from Neverland. Then I’d never be able to go back. I just- I didn’t feel comfortable in high school - in this world.

“But, um, no matter how much I tried to hold on, I forgot over time. I- I dunno. My memories started slipping and I panicked. Things like- like events and names just couldn’t come to me anymore. I started writing down every little thing I could remember-” He nods to his notebook. “Even just the most mundane details like the shape of the leaves or the color of the sand. I just recorded anything that came to mind, really.

“I kept to myself in high school and intended to do the same in college. Took online classes for a bit. The more time passed, the less real Neverland was to me. I- I started doubting myself, wondering if I’d made it up to- to cover up some intense trauma. That thought _really_ depressed me, but whatever. College. Found out about geomatics and thought I’d give it a whirl. I always liked adventures as a kid, why not pursue mapping as an adult. 

“Then- Then one day I had a dream, and… And after losing so much of that place- after damn near convincing myself it was entirely made up, I saw it again in that dream. I- I was back there again with the lost boys. We were just sitting around the fire, relaxing while someone read a bedtime story. All of their faces were kind of smudged and blurry - all but one.” Hongjoong looks pointedly at Seonghwa. “For the first time in years, I remembered the boy with the hair darker than night, Park Seonghwa.

“This is, um, this is when I sort of had my snapped moment. I was desperate, so I just dug up everything I could find on Park Seonghwa. It was just like-” He makes an exploding gesture with his hands, “-instant gratification, mind blown. The more I got to know about you, the more memories came back. The home I desperately wanted to hold onto came back to me in a way. I- I really thought I was crazy for a bit, but- but the memory of you, the pictures, everything - it just brought it back.”

“So that’s when you decided to start stalking me,” Seonghwa says flatly. The statement lacks the bite it would’ve had before making all the discoveries. Now he’s almost half joking. 

“Y-Yeah,” Hongjoong wrings a hand through his red locks sheepishly. “I, um, I saw on your social media what school you go to.”

Hwa narrows his eyes, “So you  _ did  _ follow me.”

“I- It was more of an impulse, b-but, yeah,” Hongjoong fiddles with his fingers, shame written all over his face. “I just- I’d been getting sick of the house anyway, the university’s a- a good fit for my needs, and my parents were nagging me to get out into the world anyway. I looked at other schools, and it was sort of a two birds, one stone thing in my head.”

“Uh-huh. So, this is the part when it gets weird, isn’t it?” The blond’s mood sours.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong catches Seonghwa’s gaze again. His tone is nothing but earnest, “Look- When I made the decision to come to this school, I- I had a plan, okay. I was gonna take a semester to adjust, then find you and try to feel you out.  I didn’t come here with the intention of- of seducing you or dating you, okay? I mean- I wasn’t even sure I’d wanna be friends. I just- I didn’t even have the courage to approach you.”

Hwa studies the other from head to toe. He watches for any indication of lying. Of course, his knowledge of lie indicative body language is almost entirely from spy movies, so he's not the most apt. From his perspective, there are no glaring deviations from the baseline. Hongjoong’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions recounting his childhood, and his body language reflects that. There is fiddling and fidgeting, sniffling and avoided eye contact, but at this point Hwa can’t say that means he’s lying. He chooses to suspend disbelief for the time being. Hongjoong has essentially put his entire life out in front of Seonghwa. Lying at this stage in his explanation doesn’t seem like something he’d do.

“Well, that changed,” Seonghwa breathes out. He can’t quite tell what he’s feeling anymore. The battle still rages between logic and emotions inside of him.

“In my defense, you pursued me,” Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. “Literally, you- you chased me down in the hallway one day, and it sort of- well, it escalated from there. All those old feelings, they just-” He shrugs, and his face flushes deep red, “-they came back. I just- I really didn’t think any of this would happen, okay? You have to believe me. I did _not _sabotage my old dorm to get relocated or something. I didn’t now I’d be transferred to your dorm. I- I didn’t know you’d be my RA or that you’d be across the hall. I admit to- to studying you, but not once did I follow you around. As for your relatives, you would be  _ shocked  _ what a person can find on facebook. Like, seriously. It’s scary. I never had the intention of working my way into your friend group, and I- I really wanted to tell you everything, okay? I did, but-”

Hongjoong sniffles loudly, and tears bead up in his eyes again, “For the first time in- in forever I felt like I belonged somewhere. I felt like… I felt like I was home.” He wipes a hand heavily down his face. “And- And I know what I did was fucked up, and I’m sorry. I am so, so truly sorry for everything-” The teardrops that’d been dammed up fall freely down his cheeks, and the sight makes Seonghwa wince. “I- I’m so sorry for everything, everything. From- from throwing you out to- to this. To wrecking your trust and- and to resorting to shady tactics just to know more about you. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry- I’m sorry for making you feel unsafe. I-” He covers his face, and his body drops against the wall.

“Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?” The redhead’s petite body heaves as he sobs. “I don’t care if you hate me just- just please believe that I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry and I know it’s so messed up. I- I was serious about finding help, okay? Just- I’m sorry. I thought of just- just myself this entire time. I- I never stopped to think about you, and then I got so- so wrapped up in everything I-”

“You don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry,” Seonghwa cuts the other off. The dagger in his heart twists, sending wave after wave of sharp pain across his chest and into his stomach. It breaks his heart to see the other like this, so thoroughly undone. Now that he’s come to his conclusion, he can admit that. He doesn’t want to see Hongjoong hurt. Even if what he did was wrong, Hongjoong isn’t a bad human being. He’s just fucked up, and, honestly he could be a lot worse considering his background.

Hongjoong sniffs loudly and peels himself off the ground, “Um, thanks for hearing what I have to say. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional.”

“No, thank you for explaining,” Seonghwa says. His gut instinct tells him to wrap the other in his arms and squeeze him to death, but he can’t quite bring himself to do that. In truth, he’s still not entirely okay with Hongjoong. What he needs is time, he thinks. Perhaps, some day in the future, when Seonghwa has genuinely made sense and peace of this, they can be friends. As of right now, though, Seonghwa decides: he needs time alone. “This is… A lot to take in.”

A sinking feeling tugs on Seonghwa’s gut, and he heaves a sigh. He has to tell Hongjoong. He has to. After all of that, he owes it to the other.

“Hongjoong, I have something to confess to, too,” Seonghwa says. He can’t actually meet the other’s eyes. 

“H-Hm?” The redhead tilts his head curiously.

“I… I, um, looked into you, too.”

“Huh?”

“I- Ever since finding my childhood journal, I’ve been getting my dreams more frequently. It drove me crazy, and then- then you- that thing happened. I, um, I sort of went insane and went looking for answers myself. I tried to find out who you were.”

“Bet you didn’t find much,” Hongjoong replies almost bemusedly.

“I didn’t which is why I…” Hwa braces himself for the oncoming of guilt and humiliation he’s about to put on himself. “I went to your high school.”

The redhead’s face goes through a veritable rainbow of puzzled emotions before settling on shock, “I’m sorry, you what?”

“I went to your high school and, um, looked in your file,” He deliberately neglects to mention the break-in and make-believe parts. He tells himself that if their acquaintanceship survives this, it’ll make a great drinking story.

“Oh,” Hongjoong’s face scrunches into a glare. “So you saw…”

“Everything. Well- A lot. I saw a lot,” Seonghwa admits.

“So my whole… Everything I just told you, you- you knew it already?” The redhead’s tone takes a gnarly turn.

Hwa panics, rushing to soothe the other, “No, not everything. I- I saw some stuff. Barely. Like, there was a gap in years. A change in last name.”

“So, you pulled me in here to- what, exactly?”

“I told you, I wanted your side of the story. I- I am confused, and I- I wanted to know your perspective.”

“Would you have even believed my ‘perspective' if you hadn’t already read half of my life story?”

“I-” Seonghwa presses his lips together. “I believe you now.”  


“After you pulled me in to fact-check,” Hongjoong spits the words out acridly.

“What do you expect me to say? Wh- You just- You just apologized for- for not thinking of my feelings, and now you’re doing it again.”

“I told you things I have literally never told anyone, Seonghwa. Not my parents, not any other friends I’ve made since middle school…”

“Can you just have some perspective for  _ once _ ? I- I fell for someone and then found out they’ve been stalking me for- how many years was it?”

“Wh- It wasn’t  _ stalking _ .”

“ _ Perspective _ ! Imagine you- you start dating someone then see your entire life laid out in a timeline in one of their notebooks- along with pictures of your family. What was I _supposed_ to think?”

“You never gave me time to explain!”

“Why would I give you time? In my head, in that moment, I thought you were insane.”

“And you never thought to even follow it up?”

“No, Hongjoong! Look, I’m not like you, I don’t believe in faith, trust, or pixie dust. I see stalker behavior, and I bolt.”

“Don’t patronize me,” The redhead huffs. “And our situations are  _ completely  _ different. I studied you because I didn’t know anything about you. I barely remembered who you were. All I knew was that you were my one definitive link to home. You got spooked by some hazy dreams and decided to _read my entire academic file_!”

“Okay, once again,  _ perspective _ : in my head you were a manipulative crazy person. A- A manipulative crazy person who, for some reason, happened to know details of my dream-like memories. Who sort of gave me deja vu. I was too scared to face you - I will admit that. So, I- I thought if I just looked into you, I would get the answers I needed. But- Well, I didn’t, so I- it’s not that I wanted to hear you tell your story or wanted to humiliate you, but, I needed to know because I- I-”

“I am the one link you have to the strange, confusing memories you can’t get out of your head?” Hongjoong finishes the thought flatly. Seonghwa lets out a breath he didn’t know had lodged in his throat and nods. The redhead purses his lips and adds, “You know, that sounds familiar. Maybe if you saw it from someone else’s perspective.” He raises his brows irately.

“I- I- Okay, look, I- I…” Seonghwa trails off when the understanding hits him like a truck.

They ended up doing the exact same thing. Hongjoong’s search spanned years whereas Seonghwa’s was more of a whiplash-inducing binge. Both of them felt lost and discombobulated. They both had been plagued with visions and memories of a faraway place - visions that tormented so much they couldn’t bear it any longer. And, in the end, they both sought the other in some way in order to find that long gone place again - or at least make sense of it.

Heaving a sigh, Hwa crosses over to join Hongjoong on the wall and drops to the ground a safe distance away. 

“I… I think we should agree that we both did some wrong,” He says calmly. At least, his tone is calm. His insides feel like they’d been doused in lighter fluid and set alight. All the uncertainty and dismay that had been roiling in his guts shrivel up in the blazing flames of humiliation.

“That’s right, get off that high horse,” The redhead says smugly. 

Hwa lets out another deep breath, “The truth is, I don’t blame you for not talking to me. How could you? I’d have told you that you were crazy.”

“I think your words were ‘get help’,” Hongjoong adds cheekily. “Of course, there is, um, validity to those words.”

Hwa shrugs, “It’s not my place to say them to you.”

“Yeah, well, water under the bridge,” Joong shrugs. “Look, I, um, I appreciate you not calling the cops. Seriously, why didn’t you?”

“Weren’t you just crying about how I should’ve tried to understand you better?”

“Okay, but from your  _ perspective _ , I get it. And, like, yeah. You could’ve treated me way worse, but you didn’t. So, thanks.”

The blond shrugs, “I guess part of me always held onto the idea that you’re not a bad person. I thought that you really needed help, and I wanted you to have the chance to seek it on your own terms. I didn’t want to punish you for being unwell.”

“Ugh,” Joong scrunches his nose in jest. “You’re always so noble. It kills me.”

“That’s me,” Hwa jokes. “Your neighborhood knight in shining armor. You say noble like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s just- it can be nauseating being in the presence of someone so  _ good _ . But it’s a nice quality, something I always liked about you.”

Hwa’s heart and stomach swap places at the thought of their involvement, “You mean back then or more recently?” He throws the question out in hopes of sounding casual, chill, and not like he wants to throw himself into a volcano.

Hongjoong smiles coyly, “Yes.”

  
Their gazes find one another, and Seonghwa’s ability to breathe disappears. Something he hadn’t been willing to admit for a long time announces itself loudly in his mind:

He’s not over Hongjoong.

He genuinely is not, not even a bit. It’s impossible to disregard the element of heartbreak that had fueled his obsession, and staring into the other’s eyes makes that fact so painfully clear. Part of him doubts his intentions: did he really want answers? Or did he just want Hongjoong back? Hwa guesses the answer is a little bit of both.

However, in that instance, the scale definitely tips more in the favor of the pretty redhead sitting so close to him. Hwa imagines how easy it would be two grab the other by the collar and take his lips. God, those lips. He can’t believe that after all that’s happened, his entire brain still empties itself in favor of fantasizing about the other. Once he let that shred of resistance fall, it’s like Hongjoong said - all those feelings come flooding back.

“I- I should go,” Hongjoong coughs out.

Seonghwa blinks rapidly, effectively pulled out of his daze, “O-Oh, right.”

The redhead springs onto his feet and paces to the door. Seonghwa stumbles as he follows at the other’s heels.

“Um, thanks for, um, believing me and everything,” Hongjoong says. “I- Once again, I sincerely apologize for all of the grief. All of it.”

Seonghwa nods, “It’s- it’s alright. Thank you for sharing.”

“Right, well, um, b-bye-” The redhead waves awkwardly.

“Goodbye, Hongjoong,” Hwa says. The knife in his heart continues to sheath itself further and further into his heart, but he ignores it. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“You, too,” The redhead returns with a sad smile before finally disappearing through the door. “Try and get some rest. I’m sure that was a lot to take in.”

The parting words ring true. Moments after Hongjoong leaves, Seonghwa wraps himself in his blankets. He can do nothing more than just let everything digest. He replays parts of the other’s story, lining it up with his own.

Sleep sneaks up on him. When it does take him, memories trickle into his mind. Not dreams, genuine memories. Larger than life, the moments animate before his shut eyes. He remembers adventures with the lost boys - daring escapes from the mermaid’s gorge, brilliant tricks played on the pirates. The memories remain fragmented and hazy. Seonghwa still cannot for the life of him remember who the lost boys are, nor does every moment of every day play out perfectly in his head.

But they’re there, and they’re real.

Knowing that in his heart, he sleeps well.

* * *

Seonghwa yawns loudly. He stretches his achey body in hopes that it’ll relieve him of some of the dull pains resonating throughout his joints. It’s not even that late at night, but due to extra homework, he had to forgo his routine nap. This upset the cosmic balance of his precarious sleep cycle, and now he’s considering turning in for the night at eight o’ clock.

He has to finish his work first, though. For some green initiative, the dorms have provided every resident with a little recycling bucket for school supplies and stuff. They’re doing a drive or something like that - Hwa doesn’t quite remember. He’d been dozing off during that meeting, too. Essentially the recyclables are supposed to be quantifiable in some way so the dorms can compete with one another. Being an RA, he’s tasked with collecting recycling for the drive along with his fellow RAs. 

“I love that you’re in your twenties but you act like a man the age of fifty,” Han, the RA from the floor below, chuckles.

“I _am_ a man the age of fifty,” Hwa replies dryly. The two of them push the bright blue recycling cart down his hall and chatter. Most suites were courteous enough to put their recycling out, but they still find themselves knocking on a few doors.

“Damn, you look good. Drop the skincare routine,” Han laughs. 

“I cry myself to sleep every night,” Seonghwa says it like a joke, but for this semester, it hasn’t been that far off. “Tears are great for the complexion.” He grabs a nearby recycling bin and dumps its contents into their massive cart. 

“I’ve been bottling up my emotions all this time- this is why I don’t have clear skin!”

“Oh my god, your skin is fine,” Seonghwa laughs, playfully shoving her. “Though after this, I worry…” He eyes one of the little recycling bins dubiously. 

“That is an  _ alarming  _ amount of gray body paint,” The other RA guffaws.

“I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know,” Seonghwa throws the recyclables into their cart and keeps moving.

“Ugh,” Han groans. “These idiots forgot to put theirs out.”

Seonghwa frowns, glancing at the suite in front of them. He didn’t even notice they’d gotten so far down the hall. Suite 324 stares at him, a strange, almost menacing aura emanating from behind the door.

“It’s your turn to knock,” The other RA smirks.

“Ff- Fine,” Hwa rolls his eyes. He raps on the door a couple of times, praying to all powers that be that Hongjoong won’t be the one to answer the door. Almost a minute passes without an answer, and Hwa wonders if he’s lucked out and nobody’s home. Unfortunately, just as he starts rolling the cart away, the door opens.

“Hello?” A lanky guy with dark hair pops his head out.

“O-Oh,” Hwa internally thanks the heavens for answering his please. He coughs awkwardly, putting on his best chill-but-authoritative tone, “We’re here to pick up the recycling for the drive.”

“Oh, yeah,” The guy scratches his nape sheepishly. “One sec.” He disappears into the suite for a couple of minutes and comes back with a little bin in hand. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa says. He walks it over and tips it to empty its contents into his cart. He gasps and immediately halts upon seeing something familiar. There, in the middle of boxes and paper trash sits a very familiar, very worn sketch journal. Seonghwa wonders how it got mixed up with everything. He peers over at his fellow RA, checking to see if she’s paying attention. Lucky for him, she’s playing on her phone, and the guy from 324 already disappeared back into his suite. Hwa plucks the journal out and tucks it under his arm subtly. He dumps the rest of the recycling into the cart before placing it by their door. 

If Han notices the notebook under Hwa’s armpit, she doesn’t mention it. The two finish out the floor with little of note save for a suite that had somehow managed to empty a dozen bottles of lubricant. Seonghwa’s on edge the entire rest of his shift, rushing through his ending tasks of recording how many suites participated and rolling their cart over to get taken away for weighing. He practically bolts the second he’s dismissed, barely remembering to wave bye to Han and his supervisor.

The second he’s in his room, Hwa opens the notebook. He flips through it furiously, wondering if anything had changed, if - by chance - Hongjoong was still looking into him. His shoulders slump with relief when he sees the timeline end promptly around college. It occurs to him that he’d just rifled through someone’s trash to look at their stuff, but considering the notebook has years of Hongjoong’s work, Hwa figures it’s warranted in this case.

It’s been almost a week since he and Joong hand their heavy talk. Memories have been flowing back in at a steady but slow pace. He starts remembering things during his waking hours, too; like how one time, he and Hongjoong rigged a tripwire and watched half of the evil captain’s crew trip over one another. Another time, the princess of the forest tribe taught all of the lost boys a special dance. With each new recollection, Seonghwa finds himself feeling a bit more secure and relieved. Holes in his life are finally being filled. There’s only one other person he can talk to about it, but they’re not exactly on speaking terms. They’re not sworn enemies, at least. But that doesn’t mean Hwa feels comfortable just approaching the other. At this point, he doesn’t know  _ what  _ they are.

He unlocks his phone and stares at it for a minute. The contact stares back, black letters and a pink, sparkling heart that Seonghwa still can’t bring himself to change. After scripting out what he’s gonna say for a few moments, Hwa taps the phone icon by the contact and waits for an answer.

“Hello?” Hongjoong answers this time instead of making Seonghwa chase him down in the hallway. That’s progress.

“H-Hey, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa’s voice cracks, and he considers just ending his life right there. “Um, I- I know this sounds kind of funny, but I was collecting recycling for the, uh, green drive thing, and I couldn’t help noticing your notebook in your suite’s bin. I recovered it for you since I figured you’d be looking for it.” He rocks back and forth on his heels and toes in wait of a response.

A staticy sigh fizzles through the reciever, “I know it was in there,” Hongjoong says. “I put it there.”

“You what!?” Seonghwa had not prepared for this in his mental script. He assumed that there’d been a mixup and readied himself to arrange an awkward meeting. Now he’s holding onto someone’s  _ literal  _ garbage like a complete idiot. “Sorry, I just- that’s years of research isn’t it? Did you back it up or something?” He scolds himself for asking that - it’s none of his business. He imagines Hongjoong is rolling his eyes and judging him so hard right now.

“I appreciate the concern,” Joong chuckles. It’s small but genuine. “The truth is… I’m done. I’m done trying to find Neverland.”

“Whoa,” Hwa gasps. “Are you sure?”

“Look, if you’re inspired and wanna keep it, that’s fine by me. Maybe you’ll have better luck…”

“Wha- No. God, no- I mean, no offense, I just- No. This is just sort of a shock is all.”

“Yeah, I… I thought about it a lot, and I’m just done. I’ve spent too long fixated on that place, and honestly? It’s gotten me nowhere. I’ve, like- I’ve lost so much because of it, really. I lost youth and time I could’ve spent actually enjoying life because I was obsessing over this place that- that shut me out,” Another shaky sigh sounds out through the line, and Hongjoong adds, “I lost you, too. I lost you  _ twice _ .”

“Hongjoong…”

“Oh my god, I- I’m sorry for saying that.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, actually. I- That sounds manipulative and- and guilting. Don’t- don’t feel obligated to respond to that,” Seonghwa can hear the frown in Hongjoong’s voice, and it makes him frown. The redhead continues, “Truth is, I- I got myself on a waiting list for to get seen by a school counselor. The list is fucklong with tons of cases more urgent than mine. Honestly getting on is a feat on its own, but, yay childhood trauma! Gets you on… Psychiatric help lists.  _ Woo _ .”

Seonghwa snorts, and the other goes silent for a second. A faint thudding noise comes through, and Hwa narrows his eyes.

“Are you banging your head against the wall?”

“Wh- No!” Hongjoong exclaims. “I just- sometimes you say things and immediately regret it, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Oh, good,” Hongjoong sounds relieved. The warmth in his tone makes Seonghwa’s heartrate hasten a bit. “Yeah, I looked up my sort of symptoms and neuroses. The internet says I seem to display symptoms of BPD. Or cancer.”

Hwa laughs at the lame joke, “Sounds dire.”

“We’ll see what the doc says. Who knows, I might’ve contracted a new disease. Borderline Personality _Cancer_. Where my toxic traits start taking over my personality at an uncontrollable rate until they destroy my psyche completely… Sounds like a thing.”

“You missed your calling as a virologist,” Seonghwa replies sarcastically.

“Cancer isn’t a virus, actually. Certain types are linked to viruses, though.”

“Okay, genius. Sorry, I study _stars_, not people. Stars are way better. They’re just floating masses of gas. They’re not  _ rude _ .”

“Excuse you, I merely informed you of fun cancer facts. I was imparting knowledge, which is the _opposite_ of rude.”

“Mhm,” Hwa replies dubiously. 

This is nice. 

He feels  _ nice _ . Talking to Hongjoong like this feels right to Seonghwa. His heart glows, and warmth wraps around his entire body. The sensation is strange, a combination of nerves, excitement, and comfort, familiarity. Without noticing, Seonghwa’s mouth spread into a wide smile, and his heart flutters happily in his chest. It seems unfathomable that he’d be almost back to square one after everything, but it’s like it’s his body’s default. It wants to be back in that place. He wants to.

“Hey, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, surprising even himself.

“Hm?”

“You were wrong about something.”

“What? Wrong about what? I dare you to google ‘is cancer a virus’ right now and-”

“Not that,” Hwa swallows down the lump of nervousness in his throat and powers through. “You said you lost me before. Said you lost me twice.”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond to that for a minute. When he does, he sounds dejected.  


"Seongwha, I told you, you don't need to respond to that. Just- Don't indulge me-"

"I'm not," Seonghwa cuts him off. "The only person I'm indulging here is myself, I promise. I- I just wanted to say maybe you didn’t lose me again. Maybe I just needed some time.”

“Maybe...? What, um, what conclusion did you come to, then? At the end of that time, I mean. I- Do you still need time?” His voice upturns slightly. He’s nervous, hopeful but afraid and hesitent.

“I- Yeah. I think… I could take twenty years and just try to really think about this, but,” Hwa shrugs even though the other can’t see it. “I’m honestly exhausted. I am tired of thinking and trying to just reason everything out. I wanna go with my gut for once, and my gut says that… I wanna be close to you.”

A shaky breath comes through the line, “I- I’d like that, Seonghwa. I think that would be cool, but- but only to your comfort level. Like, whatever boundry you wanna set, I get it.”

“Let’s just, um, be friends. Think we can do that?” Insisting on friendship alone wounds Hwa, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. They can’t just start making out, that’s no way to rebuild trust. As much as Seonghwa wants to. He bats away invasive images of the other squirming in his lap, reminding himself: boundaries! They need to set boundaries!  


“Yeah, I think so,” Hongjoong answers, his voice low but full of mirth. “Like old times?”

Seonghwa considers the question for a second, “No,” He says. “Like new times. No more running around behind each others’ back or hiding things. If anything about fairies or Neverland or lost boys comes back to us, we talk it out, okay? And- and if you wanna know anything about me, for fuck’s sake, just ask me. No more googling or cosplaying to break into someone’s school. Just- Just no more major secrets involving the other. That sound alright?”

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Hongjoong replies. “Wait- What do you mean ‘cosplaying to break into someone’s school’?”

“What?”

“What makes you think I ‘cosplayed’ and broke into your school.”

“I never said you did.”

“Oh… So did  _ you  _ cosplay and break into my school?”

“Uh-”

“You just said no more major secrets in regards to one another.”

“Uh.”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong claps. “Seonghwa, how can we start our new lease on friendship without a hundred precent honesty?”

“Uh-”

“Did you or did you not dress up to break into my school?”

“M-Maybe I did,” Seonghwa’s cheeks burn with the admission.

“What?!” Hongjoong squeaks happily. It’s impressive how quickly he can go from serious to impish. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god- you really dressed up as- as someone else? Did you have a name?”

“Listen!” Seonghwa yells into his phone. He majorly regrets is stupid, giant mouth. “Meet me at the south library tomorrow. Five o’ clock. I’ll tell you all about it. Then we can study for our midterms, because I know we’re both about to get slammed next week.”   
  


“Okay, okay,” Hongjoong relents. “Deal. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yup. Tomorrow at five. Be there or be rectangular.”

“Oh my god. You’re so lame.”

“Actually, I’m Seonghwa.”

“ _ Stop _ .”

“I love humiliating myself to spite you.”

“Ugh. Whatever.”

“See you tomorrow at five, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa singsongs with a wide grin on his face.

Hongjoong replies,“Yup. Tomorrow at five. It’s a date.”

Hwa chokes on air when he hears the word “date”; however, Hongjoong hangs up seconds later, leaving the other to just gape and gawk.

“It’s not a  _ date  _ date, Seonghwa,” The blond whispers to himself. He wills his overenthusiastic imagination to settle down. “It is a study date.”

Study date. Date date. Friend date.

None of it matters to Seonghwa. As long as he’s with Hongjoong.

Apparently, their first try at friendship went fantastically, until it didn’t. Their second ended catastrophically, even moreso than the first. Seonghwa hopes that time number three is the charm. No, he defiantly shoves the thought away. He won’t leave it up to hope this time, he decides.

This time, he’s going to  _ make sure  _ it works out.  _ It _ might just be platonic friendship, and that’s fine. Whatever it is, Seonghwa decides right then and there: it will work. Period. End of story. He’s not losing Hongjoong again.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Raindrops gently mist from the gray sky above. Seonghwa watches students shuffle across the slick concrete jungle through his vantage by the window. He doesn’t envy them one bit. There’s something about the doldrums of springtime that weigh a person down, and it shows plainly. People walk with their eyes on the ground and their arms curled around themselves. Nobody wants to stop and talk or lay out in the grass of the courtyard. An almost tangible air of stress surrounds each and every one of the students scuttling along to their next class or to the library.

Sucks to be them.

Seonghwa sighs happily, resting his face on his hand. He secured the perfect window table at the south library for their study date. Their  _ fourth _ study date. The first one began awkwardly. They stuttered over jokes and coughed through sentences; but the frigidity thawed. Being in the presence of one another is too natural for them to remain strained for long. After a few hours, the two went back to bantering like nothing had happened. Well, almost like nothing had happened. Occasionally gazes lingered a little too long or silences drew out dangerously. It wasn’t anything they couldn’t recover from, though.

Entrenched in midterm season, Seonghwa had ample excuses to invite Hongjoong out to study. It’s an easy, no pressure type of thing. Something that allows them to just enjoy the other’s presence without forcing conversation. And enjoy Seonghwa does. 

While it’s nice to have a look outside, nothing can beat the view across from him. Hongjoong’s in an understated, relatively lazy number for him. Dark pants and a simple t-shirt with a neckline that is way too wide. The ample view of decolletage serves as a stark, bothersome reminder to Seonghwa that he never marked that skin during their time together. His tongue inadvertently flits out of his mouth as he finds himself dwelling entirely too much on a cute birthmark.

No, he tells himself. Boundaries! Friendship! He tears his eyes away, focusing them back outdoors.

“Ow!” Hwa wheezes at a sharp pain in his shin.

“Wh- Oh, sorry,” Joong gasps. “I- I was swinging my legs and I kicked you.”

“You were swinging your legs?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Seonghwa snorts, and Hongjoong’s baffled expression darkens into annoyance.

“Oh- Oh very funny.”

“Wh- I’m just saying, I can’t really swing my legs-“

“Shut up.”

“Since my feet touch the ground- Oh my god, ow!” Seonghwa winces when Hongjoong does it again, this time harder and with intention.

“Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude.”

“You  _ sound _ rude,” Joong huffs, pursing his lips into a tiny pout.

Seonghwa’s face burns as he tries to satiate the other, “It’s- It’s okay to be short. You’ve got me around to get stuff that’s up high- What? Why do you look so angry? It’s- It’s cute.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh.”

“Wh- Come on being short isn’t bad.”

“You know, you’re not exactly a tower, either.”

“Okay. Wow-“

“You brought it up first!” Joong throws his hands up. “I’m just  _ saying _ , maybe you should look in the mirror and think about yourself before dragging other people.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather look at you,” Seonghwa quips with a smirk.

What he actually said dawns on him seconds later, and the red hot heat flushing his face deepens tenfold.

“Oh. Oh, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh,  _ Seonghwa _ .”

“Listen-“

“You really just-“ The redhead wheezes, “-with your whole chest-“

“ _ Listen _ .”

“You are literally  _ so _ embarrassing,” Hongjoong snickers from behind his hand. His eyes squint and his smile takes over almost his entire face. Hwa decides then and there that the sight makes the humiliation worth it.

“You’re a- a bad influence!” Hwa bites back.

“I- What? Why is it my fault that you’re lame as heck?!”

“I- I am not lame!” The blond poutily protests. “I just- You suck all of the oxygen out of the air, okay. My brain functions are inhibited in your presence.”

Hongjoong just laughs at that.

“Listen, it’s midterms, I’m already half-dead,” Seonghwa mutters, starting to laugh more at himself. “My blood sugar is probably low- shouldn’t you be studying?”

“I- I can’t-“ Joong breathily answers.

“Just get back to your stupid book okay?”

“O- Okay,” The other answers shakily. “I’ll- Yeah. Mhm.” His shoulders still shudder from laughter as he turns the pages of his textbook, but he abruptly stops. “Oh- Oh god.”

“What now?” Seonghwa asks with exaggerated exasperation.

“I’m bleeding,” Hongjoong laughs and he holds his index finger. Blood beads up from a tiny paper cut on the finger. It’s entirely superficial, but being a surface-level cut, the thing bleeds profusely.

“Fuck’s sake,” Seonghwa chuckles. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I- I know textbooks are expensive, but now they’re demanding payment in blood. Seonghwa, I’m scared.”

“Oof- it’s bleeding a lot. It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?”

“Nah, it just stings. Hey, is now a bad time to tell you about all the satanic summoning circle I drew on this page?”

“Shut up,” Even though Seonghwa shakes his head in disapproval, he’s got a wide grin. “I think I have band-aids somewhere in here…” He grabs his backpack and starts rifling through the smaller pockets.

“Wh- Serious?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Yup… Here we go!” Seonghwa slips a band-aid out of his portable first aid kit. “You never know when it’ll come in handy.”

“You just keep those with you?”

“I have a kit.”

“You have a whole first aid kit on you all the time?”

“I mean, in my bookbag. Not  _ all _ the time.”

“Dude, that’s, like, level one-hundred adulting right there.”

“You make me sound so old,” Hwa’s face scrunches as he beckons for the other to give him is hand. 

“You  _ are _ so old,” Hongjoong snarks.

“Uh, news flash, you’re older than me,” Seonghwa quirks an eyebrow at the other pointedly.

The redhead’s cheeks flush,“Okay, y-yeah, but like… You’re an old  _ soul _ . You always have been. Even when you were young. It’s a good thing. It means you’re responsible and reliable. And prepared.”

“You’re just lucky my mom is overprotective,” Seonghwa says as he gently wraps the band-aid around Hongjoong’s finger. “She kinda taught me to be prepared for stuff like this. Has me walking around with a mini-pharmacy in my bookbag because of it.”

“That’s really sweet,” Hongjoong smiles graciously. “I’m definitely grateful for it.” He wiggles his finger the punctuate the point.

Seonghwa rubs a few soothing circles into the other’s tiny palm. He gets the urge to kiss the tiny cut better, but a loud booming noise on their table forcefully yanks him out of that line of thought.

Hwa’s eyes go wide, and he jumps. Hongjoong jumps too, the expression on his face like he’d just seen an alien pop out of someone’s stomach. Seonghwa finds the source of the noise - two large hands fanned out on the surface of their table. He follows the long fingers up long arms until he sees broad shoulders and atop them a very familiar face. His heart leaps into his throat.

“Well!” Mingi grins widely. Wooyoung and San float around beside him. The tallest of the trio practically shouts: “What  _ have _ we here?”

Seonghwa, being unsure and hesitant, didn’t loop his friends into his recent development. They’d stopped asking about Hongjoong awhile ago. Seeing the two palling around is probably a shock. Considering the fact that Hwa’d gotten spotted by the three least subtle members of his pack, it was inevitable one of them would say something. Of course, Wooyoung, San and Mingi also happen to be the  _ loudest _ members of his pack. The trio are already getting dirty looks from the surrounding tables who’d just come by to study. Surely nobody expected hurricane WooSanGi to come crashing their study session.

“H-Hey,” Seonghwa’s greeting ends up sounding more like a squeak than a hello.

“ _ So _ ,” San’s the first to invite himself to sit. He loudly yanks a chair out from under the table, and the scraping of its metal legs echo loudly across the study area. Unsurprisingly, the platinum blond is completely unphased. He drops into the chair unceremoniously and flashes one of his signature, fox-like grins. Woo takes the other open chair, and Mingi skips around awkwardly until he decides to settle on San’s lap. Typical.

Seonghwa ventures a glance toward Hongjoong, and his stomach tightens. The redhead’s hunched over now. He fiddles with his pencil idly as his pupils flit around nervously. While San and Wooyoung focus their gazes on Seonghwa, Mingi openly stares at the redhead.

The platinum blond doesn’t beat around the bush when he speaks, “Nice to see you two getting along again.” He raises his eyebrows, eyes darting pointedly between them.

Awkwardness rolls in like a suffocating smog. The five of them exchange looks ranging from stressed to confused. Without words, Hongjoong pleads with Seonghwa: “help me”.

“Are you guys, like, a thing again?” Mingi blurts out tactlessly. Seonghwa gives the younger a look that he hopes says  _ murder _ \- he sure as hell  _ feels _ like murdering him. Hwa checks on Joong again, and the redhead returns with a pitifully lost look in his eyes.

“We’re… We’re friends,” Seonghwa responds, keeping his eye more on Hongjoong’s reaction than the others. The redhead’s lips press into a thin line. Hesitantly, he nods in agreement; he doesn’t say anything, though. The three invaders examine the increasingly uncomfortable pair before another one of them talks.

“That’s- that’s good,” Wooyoung graciously provides the reasonable, somewhat polite comment. “I’m glad to see that you’re friends again.” The smile he gives them is small but genuine. 

“Yeah,” San, infinitely less polite and gracious, leans as far toward the others as he can with a six foot man on his lap. “Did you plan on telling us that you’d made up with the guy you cried over for weeks? Or was that little detail you figured you’d keep to yourself?”

“Wh- San,” Wooyoung smacks the other’s shoulder. “That’s not our business- I’m sorry on his behalf.”

“It’s a  _ question _ ,” San insists. “He doesn’t have to answer. I mean, fine. Go ahead. Don’t tell your closest friends why you’ve ghosted us for weeks. That’s fine. So?” He looks at Seonghwa expectantly. Bitterness drips from his words.

Hwa doesn’t know what to say. He supposes he can gloss over the gritty details, but there’s no easy way to explain why he’d been so mum. He can make something up, but what can he say? What’s so bad that Seonghwa would go completely mute but not bad  _ enough _ that they’d be flirting in the library weeks later? 

He attempts talking, hoping the words just sort of form themselves,“Uh-”

“Wait-” Hongjoong pipes up. “Did you say-” He turns to Hwa, “-you cried over me?” He sounds entirely too excited by the prospect.

“Uh-” Seonghwa tries to remember the universal choking sign. He might need to use it. 

“Well we didn’t  _ see _ it,” Mingi remarks. “He wouldn’t talk to us.” He pouts.

“I was dealing with- with stuff,” The eldest mutters. He notices a few more accusatory glances at the redhead, and he gets the urge to defend the other. He has no idea what his friends think of the breakup or Hongjoong. He never told them anything, so they probably came up with ideas themselves. What do they think Hongjoong did? What if they think he’s a bastard? Are they judging him right now?

“Well,” San says, “Seems like it’s dealt with.”

“Y-Yeah. It is, so…” Seongwha trails off and glares at them.. 

“We’re glad!” Mingi adds, forcing a smile in Hongjoong’s direction. “It’s- it’s encouraging to see that you two worked through the- uh- the- um...” The youngest coughs.

A few minutes of excrutiating silence pass. Seonghwa silently wills them to leave. He hopes they interpret his irate, wide-eyed stares as a signal to leave already.

They don’t.

Instead the three sit there, staring. The awkward smog thickens, and Seonghwa half considers picking up and leaving himself. When he envisioned facing his friends, it was on his own terms. Never in a million years did he imagine getting  _ ambushed _ . He searches desperately for something, some way to satiate them without lying or being disingenuous. 

Suddenly, the noise of metal legs scraping against tile sounds out again. This time, it’s Hongjoong. The bundle of nerves stands up shakily. He swallows nervously and nods to the three intruders.

“Guys, I thinks it’s obvious that there is a, um, an elephant in the room,” Hongjoong says. He takes a deep breath before saying more. “You’re probably all wondering what happened between Seonghwa and I-”

“Hongjoong, you- you don’t have to tell them anything anything,” Hwa tells the other as he glowers at the three vultures.

“Yes, yes I think I do. You can’t keep shutting your friends out,” Hongjoong replies softly.

The blond frowns, “Hongjoong, you- you  _ don’t _ have to-”

“It was my fault,” The redhead turns to the others. “I… It was a breach of trust. I was dishonest with him, and… It wasn’t fair.”

“Holy shit, so you  _ did _ cheat on him?!” Mingi’s shout garners entirely too much attention, and Seonghwa’s hands clench tightly into fists.

“No!” Hwa bellows. Even more people gawk after the outburst. “He- he didn’t,” He follows up more quietly, his ears burning. 

“I- I no, I would  _ never _ ,” Hongjoong replies. It’s clear from his face that just the implication distresses him. Seonghwa briefly contemplates murdering the three morons, but he decides it would be impolite to commit homicide in the library. Imagine how distracting it would be to the no doubt drained student body. 

The redhead continues,“The- the truth is-” Hwa’s eyes go wide and he tenses. Is Hongjoong really gonna tell them? Seonghwa finds himself at the edge of his seat, fixated on every word that come’s out of the other’s mouth. Tension coils tightly around him, but he can’t bring himself to speak out or intervene. 

“The truth is that I...” Hongjoong takes a deep breath. His face flushes, and his fingers fidget. “I lied about my age. I- I lied about my age to Seonghwa. I am actually, um, a few years older than him, but I’m a year below him in school. When he assumed I was younger I… I never corrected him.” The redhead lets out a shaky breath. “I- I liked the way he treated me. You- You know how he is. Kind. A mentor. So I just… I let him believe I was- I was someone else.”

“Wait- Legit?” Wooyoung’s face scrunches with disbelief. “Whoa- Hold up if Hwa is… Then how old does that make you?”

Mingi gapes,“What’s your skincare routine?”

“How old are you actually?” San asks.

“T-Twenty-five…” Hongjoong answers in a tiny voice, his eyes fleeing to the ground.

  
“Wait- What?” The platinum blond narrows his eyes at Seonghwa, “You were up in arms because he’s a few years older than you?”

Hongjoong rushes to correct the other before Hwa can even think of words,“No, that’s- that’s not it. It- I know it wasn’t the age thing. It was just- I crossed a boundary and lied. And I totally take ownership of that. But, um, we’re cool now.”

“Well no wonder Hwa’s been so happy lately,” San chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at the eldest. 

“No,” Woo adds, “But seriously - what is your skincare routine?”

“U-Uh, trade secret,” The redhead replies bashfully.

“How’d you get held back so much in school?” Once again, it’s Mingi - sweet, naive Mingi - who manages to ask the most wildly inappropriate question.

“Mingi,” San elbows the younger one sharply in the rib. “Some people wait on college these days.”

“Yeah, but that’s like a long time-”

“I can answer that,” Hongjoong responds. “It’s- it’s okay. When I was in grade school I, um, I had a severe developmental disorder that put me out of school for about five years.”

“Oh,” Mingi grunts dumbly. The others look just as taken aback as the youngest. Seonghwa shoots them all dirty looks for prying, and they finally back off. Wooyoung’s the first to get up. He bursts out of his seat abruptly, practically sending the chair catapulting into the table behind him. Mingi, wide-eyed, follows, and San after him.

“Well,” San coughs out with red cheeks. He’s probably embarrassed now - as he  _ should  _ be. “We’ll let you two get back to studying. If you ever wanna do a big group, though, we’re game!”

“Bye Seonghwa, bye Hongjoong!” Mingi waves jubilantly before tailing San.

“Peace!” Wooyoung, the third wheel of the day, says bye last. The three weave through the maze of close-set tables until eventually disappearing down a hallway.

Seonghwa groans and rolls his eyes. Shame tugs at his gut and heats his face.

“I’m- I’m  _ so _ sorry about them,” The blond apologizes profusely. “You really didn’t have to tell them anything. I- I didn’t, as you can see.”

Joong shakes his head and sits back down, “It’s fine. Like, I’m not saying everyone has to share everything, but I just- I didn’t want that to be, like, a secret you kept for my sake.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“It’s not like I told them everything. I told them the truth. Well, part of it,” The redhead shrugs.

“Just so you know, I didn’t say anything about- about cheating.”

“I know,” For how impulsive and emotional he can be, Hongjoong takes it fairly well. “I mean, if a close friend of mine broke up with someone and didn’t say anything, I’d wonder, too. They care about you.”

“Hey,” Hwa responds, “They care about you, too.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“They liked you. Hanging out together was always fun. Hell, I think they liked you more than they liked me sometimes. I think they were worried about you, too. They probably just didn’t wanna say it to me.”

“Well, I’m always down to hang out with them again if- if everyone feels comfortable,” Hongjoong says, a tint of hopefulness in his tone.

“That’d be fun,” Seonghwa smiles. It feels like the universe is slowly falling back into place after being completely out of whack for weeks. Hongjoong flashes Hwa another sweet smile, and the blond melts a little in his seat. His heart does a giddy dance in his chest, making concetrating on studying way harder. Minutes after he glances back down at his book, his phone lights up with a text notification.

Hwa furrows his brows and checks his notifications. His face contorts into an expression of horror when he realizes he hadn’t just gotten one message but many. Very many. San and Mingi essentially assaulted him in their groupchat.

**Sannie☀️** : so is it like ON again

**Mingi** : :oo

**Mingi** : i cant believe u dated a dignified older man this whole time

**Sannie☀️** : he was tooootes giving u eyes btw

**Sannie☀️** : i usually think broke up coupels should stay broke up but

**Sannie☀️** : u two are diff

**Mingi** : yea u 2 were so good together

**Mingi** : or ARE

**Mingi** : 👀

**Sannie☀️** : 👁️👄👁️

**Mingi** : wait

**Mingi** : is he still a virgin

**Sannie☀️** : a 25yo virgin??

**Sannie☀️** : with his looks??

**Sannie☀️** : idk if i believe it…

**Mingi** : give him a footjob under the table

**Sannie☀️** : if its legit tho

**Sannie☀️** : u found a unicorn!!

Hwa rolls his eyes and answers:

(You): die

**Sannie☀️** : he lives!!

**Mingi** : did u take my advice

**Mingi** : abt the foot job

**Sannie☀️** : ok but srsly we are DYING HERE

**Sannie☀️** : like WHAT HAPPENED

**Sannie☀️ ** is typing…

Seonghwa leers at their groupchat, then another notification crops up:

**Yeosang** : are u and joong back together? :o

The blond curses under his breath, “Son of a-” much to Hwa’s chagrin, another message comes in.

**Yunh🐶** : whats this i hear abt hongjoong?

**Yunh🐶** : if uh my sources are wrong, pls ignore this

Then another:

**woowoo** : 😩😩🍆💧💦😫

And another.

**🍎Jongho🍎** : hey so

**🍎Jongho🍎** : i mightve heard something

Seonghwa starts recounting episodes of Criminal Minds he’d seen in the past and wonders which one of the assclowns he calls friends he’d kill first. Fueled by murderous intent, he messages the SanGi groupchat again:

(You): DIE

**Sannie☀️: ** WHAT DID I DO??

**Mingi:** thats not a very positive attitude to have bud

**Mingi** : arent RAs supposed to be upstanding pillars of positivity for the student body

(You): why is our entire friend group blowing my phone up asking about me and hongjoong?   
(You): did u rly have to immediately tell EVERYONE?

**Sannie☀️: ** idk lol 🌚

**Sannie☀️: ** i dont understand the question can u please restate it

(You): 🐉🗡🗡☀️ ➡ ⚰

(You): do u understand that?

**Sannie☀️: ** WE ARE JUST CONCERNED FOR UR WELL BEING OK

**Mingi** : am i allowed to say i missed hongjoong now

(You): mingi you hated hongjoong

  
**Mingi** : NO I DIDNT

(You): he told us he was going to dubai to study abroad and you asked him if u could have his stuff

**Mingi** : i was TRYING to LIGHTEN THE MOOD

(You): you laughed at yunho when he cried

**Mingi** : we were all DRUNK

**Sannie☀️: ** this is all just misdirection

**Sannie☀️: ** hwa its so obvious u never got over him

(You): I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS

**Mingi** : u didnt deny it tho 😜😜

**Sannie☀️: ** we want you to be happy dude

**Sannie☀️: ** im ngl the whole age thing like… idgi but if it upset u thats valid

**Sannie☀️: ** what i mean is like we were ALL scratching our heads ok

**Sannie☀️: ** then u werent urself and we missed our big bro :((

(You): i’m sorry, i just needed time alone

**Sannie☀️: ** thats fine!!

**Sannie☀️: ** im js like

**Sannie☀️:** u both have feelings it is PAINFULLY obvious

**Mingi: ** deadass ur so gross lol

**Mingi: ** this how u look at hongjoong: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

(You): -_-

**Sannie☀️: ** like its UR life but just kno

**Sannie☀️:** if u happen to maybe want to walk that avenue w/ him again

**Sannie☀️:** we toootally support it :>

**Sannie☀️: ** u 2 make a rly good couple

**Sannie☀️: ** joong somehow manages to loosen the pole shoved up your ass slightly

**Mingi** : srs u guys were couple goals

**Mingi** : the cutest friends to boyfriends story

**Sannie☀️: ** YES

**Sannie☀️: ** well almost as cute as me and mingi ;)

**Mingi:** lmao yup totally haha ;;;)))

**Sannie☀️: ** people WISH they were on our couple level 😩

**Mingi** : haha yea

**Mingi** : i dont need no bf i have san

**Sannie☀️** : who needs a bf when they have a mingi

**Sannie☀️:** omg the shared brain cell

**Sannie☀️:** see??

**Sannie☀️:** are u jealous seonghwa?

**Mingi: ** lolol

**Sannie☀️:** we outcoupled

**Sannie☀️: ** outdated

**Mingi** : ;;))

(You): i am in pain reading this but not for the reason u wanna think

**Mingi** : ????

Seonghwa’s gaze lands on Hongjoong. He watches the other nibble on his lower lip while he contemplates a math problem. He’s so…  _ Him _ . Hwa could probably fill a book with all the descriptors he thinks fit the other. Beautiful, brillinat, stunning, kind, gracious, handsome, precious… 

“What?” Hongjoong chuckles shyly when he catches Seonghwa staring at him. 

The blond’s cheeks flush, and he sputters out an apology by reflex, “S-Sorry. I was just, um-”

“Do I have something on my face?” The other asks coyly.

“Wh- No, I’m sorry I just…” Hwa can’t say what happens in that moment. Something in him snaps, and he tosses out the blathering apology completely. Setting his gaze unwaveringly on the other, he speaks again more confidently, “Actually, no, I’m not sorry.”

“I- Excuse me, what?” Hongjoong laughs.

“I’m not sorry. I was looking at you because you’re really hot and I’m into you,” Even though his heart’s practically beating out of his chest, Seonghwa plays it cool. He doesn’t let the other’s gaze escape his own and speaks straight and even. “Hongjoong, I wanna take you out on a date. If it’s, like, too fast or not what you want, that’s fine. I just- I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that you don’t drive me crazy. It’s fine if that’s not what you want for us, but-” Hwa shrugs nonchalantly. “Figured I’d at least try.”

“I- I-” The redhead wipe shis hands down his face, and when he emerges, his cheeks match his hair. Suppressing a laugh, he asks, “So, what- are you trying to ask me out or are you  _ telling _ me we’re going out?”

“Uh-” Hwa coughs out. He didn’t realize that, in his totally confident not-dying spiel he hadn’t actually asked the other for his thoughts. He just sort of threw everything down and expected some type of answer.

“Because, you know, I don’t like being told what to do,” Hongjoong adds playfully with a smirk.

Seonghwa balks. Joong is playing with his food, and it’s not fair. What is Hwa supposed to do? Redact his statement? With a huff, Hwa caves and restates:

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa purposely puts on the softest, tenderest, most romantic tone he can muster - just to fluster the other more. Serves him right, after all. Of course Hongjoong can’t let anything be easy. 

Hwa boldly reaches across the table and gently grasps the other’s hand; gazing adoringly into the other’s eyes as he speaks:

“I can’t ignore my feelings for you anymore. I’m crazy about you, and I want to try again. So, please, would you let me take you out for a real date? Not just studying at the library. Maybe somewhere with candle light, just you and me?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Hongjoong’s rendered speechless by the excessively romantic proclamation. Seonghwa smirks in satisfaction as he watches the other’s pretty mouth flap open and closed. Now it’s his turn to stutter like a flustered idiot.

“I... Would like that,” Hongjoong finally answers in a tiny voice. “S-See? Was asking nicely so hard?”

Hwa rolls his eyes, “Oh, really? You’re gonna lecture me about manners now?”

The two devolve into a completely unproductive back and forth about properness and etiquette. Seonghwa’s heart flutters happily in anticipation of their actual, legit date. He’s almost as nervous as he was the first time, but the excitement and relief drown it out.

One last notification catches Hwa’s eye before he actually goes back to studying; at first he thinks it’s from the group chat, but it’s a private message:

**Mingi** : wait but like why r u in pain lol

Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose and silently promises Mingi: one day, they’ll have a real talk about  _ that  _ elephant in the room. But today is not that day. Hongjoong is too damn cute.

* * *

Spring is an incredibly peculiar season to Seonghwa. It’s a time of change, of transition. Of rebirth. He never thought that the cliches of new romance budding with the springtime would ever apply to him. Yet, there he is, walking side by side with the most beautiful boy ever, on a date. Just like the fledgling blooms pocking the manicured shrubs of the park, their relationship starts to grow anew.

The seemingly ceasless chill of winter subsided, giving way to pleasant sunny days. While jackets are still necessary, they’re lighter, and being outdoors is no longer an excrutiating chore. Seonghwa couldn’t have asked for a better day to take Joong out. The two rose early for brunch, and after a few too many mimosas, they decided to walk off their buzz at a nearby park.

Hongjoong stumbles over a pebble and catapaults forward. Seonghwa just barely catches him by the sleeve, snorting as he rights the atypically clumsy redhead.

“S-Sorry,” Hongjoong giggles, burying his hand in his face. The other one’s holding a much-needed cup of coffee. Hwa doesn’t know why he’s surprised that Joong’s such a lightweight. He’s petite, and he said himself that he doesn’t drink much. Apparently, he’d never learned to bury the taste of alcohol under copious amounts of sweet OJ. Hwa’s not sure what the other will do with his new life lesson. Hopefully, he’ll only use the discovery for good and not evil.

“Someone’s had a bit much,” Hwa laughs, lightly nudging the other with his shoulder.

“Who?”

“Oh my god. You really don’t drink often, do you?”

“Wh- I’m not  _ drunk _ !” Hongjoong’s voice inadverently raises into a shout, garnering concerned looks from the older couple passing by. Joong’s eyes go wide and he snorts. “I- I’m not- Maybe I’m a little-”

“Shh-shh, just- just sip your coffee,” Hwa titters. Hongjoong obliges, leaning into Seonghwa for support.

“I think I’m gonna need a nap after this,” The redhead admits.

“Oh my god- Are you for real?”

“Mhm. I can’t fly anymore, though, so… I hope you’re as strong as you look.”

“You are… You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not!” Joong laughs. “Unless…”

“Your legs seem to be working fine.”

The rosy-cheeked redhead pouts, “You’re no fun- whoa!”

Two children bolt past the couple in a blur, shouting threats to one another. They nearly knock the already wobbly Joong over, and Hwa actually wraps an arm around the redhead’s shoulders just to assure he doesn’t faceplant into the path. 

“Oh- Oh my!” A winded woman huffs beside them. She turns to the two and flashes an apologetic smile, “I- I’m so sorry about them. Kids, right?”

Seonghwa laughs, “No need to apologize. Running around is good for kids.”

“Oh, thank you for understanding- Micky!” The mother’s eyes blow wide open and she hollers to one of the children in the distance. “Micky put down the rock! No throwing rocks!” Without another word, she bolts toward the toward the two tiny menaces.

The couple laugh between themselves as they watch the mother get her day’s cardio trying to disarm her rambunctions kids.

“Ugh,” Hongjoong sighs wistfully. “To be a kid again.” He leans his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I miss having that kind of energy and freedom. Specially in Neverland. We could do  _ anything _ .” The sentiment puts a dreamy grin on the other’s face.

“It was fun,” Hwa agrees.

“Seriously, can we just turn back time?” The redhead pouts. “Like- I know I’ve gotten over trying to find it, but, like… Sometimes I just want to put myself back there- in that time and place.” 

Something about the words bother Seonghwa. They make his skin crawl ever so slightly. He knows that Hongjoong meant no personal offense, but he can’t help thinking about how he ultimately didn’t fit into “that time and place”.

“Didn’t you nearly get drowned by mermaids?” The blond posits obstinately. “Also we constantly had to fight pirates. Like,  _ constantly _ .”

“Wh- I mean, yeah, okay. But, like, there was no- I dunno- capitalism.”

“There wasn’t any Sephora, either,” Seonghwa quips as he pokes the apple of Hongjoong’s luminous cheek. 

“Ugh!” Joong smacks the other lightly. “Wow, rude. You telling me I’m not  _ naturally _ beautiful?”

“I’m just saying, there are a lot of luxuries you enjoy now that weren’t a thing there.”

“It was a simpler life,” Hongjoong shrugs.

“You slept in a cave.”

“Those beds were comfy! Oh my god- why are you being such a hater?”

“I’m  _ not _ !” Seonghwa balks, “I’m just saying, maybe your view on that part of your life is being tinted a  _ little bit _ with rose glasses.”

“It was nice,” Hongjoong argues, half-humored, half-confused. “Childhood is nice. It’s so much more-“ He shrugs, “-I dunno. Pure. Kindhearted.”

“What?”

“Like, kids are. Not adults, obviously.”

“Wh- Kids are jerks,” Hwa laughs. “Dude, one time this nerdy kid in my school got the police called to his house because some jerk decided it’d be a fun prank to call in and report a dead body at his address.”

“Whoa- what?!”

“Not to mention the savage bullying, I- did you never witness stuff like that? Having freckles or wearing glasses makes you a target for children. They’re ruthless.”

“Oh my god, you’re so…” The redhead snorts.

“I’m so what?”

“I think you’re just jealous.”

“I’m… What?”

Hongjoong leans in real close - so close his lips almost graze Seonghwa’s ear, “I think you’re jealous of Neverland. You’re scared I like it more than I like you.”

“Wh- I-“ Seonghwa’s face fizzles with heat as he protests, “N-No, I’m not!”

“You so are! You’re scared that if I did find Neverland I’d leave you and never come back!” Joong jabs a finger triumphantly at the other, entirely too smug about hitting the nail on the head.

“Well… Would you?” Seonghwa searches the other’s face for an answer.

“I-“ Hongjoong’s snarky facade fades. He shrugs and purses his lips in thought, “I dunno if I’d go back if I was confident I could- like if I knew the way. I… I definitely used to hold onto the place like a security blanket.” He laughs wryly.

“I’m sorry that was a- a weird question,” Hwa coughs out guiltily. They were having such a nice time - why did he have to ruin it?

“No it’s- it’s valid and I, um… I think that I wouldn’t leave this place, you know? No- no, I definitely wouldn’t,” When his gaze returns to Seonghwa’s, it’s more timid and sincere.

“You don’t have to say that-“

“I’m not just saying it. For real I’m… I’m the happiest I’ve ever been since- since getting adopted or even finding Neverland. Yeah, life’s more complicated, but I wouldn’t change it. Even if you could come with me, you’re right.”

“I’m right?” The blond’s brows knit in confusion. “About what?”

Hongjoong smiles, “There isn’t any Sephoras in Neverland.”

“Aw, how romantic,” Hwa replies facetiously.

“I  _ know _ ,” The redhead plants a peck on Seonghwa’s cheek. 

Seonghwa reciprocates the gesture, making sure to obnoxiously squish the other’s cheek just to exert dominance. Tipsy and giggly, Joong’s nose scrunches at the saccharine gesture. He casts a cursory glance around to assure nobody’s watching and shyly presses a chaste kiss on Hwa’s lips. The blond short-circuits for a second. He’s not used to PDA - it’s not Joong’s thing, which he’s fine with. But that means he is entirely unprepared for the other being so damn lovely. It’s basically a sneak attack for which Hwa has no answer.

“Ew- gross!” “Why do grownups kiss all the time?!” “Adults are so  _ weird _ .” “Yuck.” A pair of tiny voices beside them yucks. 

The couple jolts at the sudden intrusion. Off to the side, one of the kids that’d been running around before shakes their head as if disappointed. The other quickly darts past, shouting some other vague playful nonsense.

“Sorry!” Their mother shouts in the distance.

Hwa flashes her a smile and a shrug. When he turns to Hongjoong, the redhead’s hiding his face in mortification.

“See,” Seonghwa says. “I told you. Kids are savages.”

“Oh my god-“

“I told you.”

“I- I can’t believe we jus- they just- I feel so ashamed!”

“Yeah, damn. Can’t believe those children think we’re gross. God, I wish we were as cool as them.”

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, weirdo,” Seonghwa laughs, “Let’s get you tucked into bed for a nap.” He presses a kiss on top of the other’s head and guides him along.

* * *

Transitional weather is always a doozy. It’s the sweater-in-the-morning, sticky-hot afternoon type of weather that puts everyone on edge. Some layer ambitiously while others bare it all in hopes that they can grit their teeth through the morning and survive the afternoon. Seonghwa regrets wearing so many layers. The morning was brisk with winter’s chill stubbornly clinging onto the air. However, the sun came out, effectively baking all of those beneath it.

Sweat drips down Seonghwa’s nape as he power walks back to his dorm for his afternoon nap. He wonders if it’s the warmth of the afternoon sun or his nerves. Hwa scans the entrance of his dorm searching for a familiar bright red head of hair. His shoulders slump with relief upon seeing he’s in the clear, and he powerwalks into the building quickly.

He checks the lobby, too.

No redhead. Good. Seonghwa hates walking around with a cloud of paranoia looming over him. It weighs him down and casts a shadow everywhere he goes. When he does catch even just a speck of red hair in his peripherals, he floors it. Walking into the dorm is the most unnerving by far - especially around this time. The couple often share their afternoon naptime, cuddling up on Hwa’s bed and snoozing the rest of the sunlight away. At least, they did. Seonghwa isn’t sure they’ll do it now.

A buzz in the blond’s pocket nearly sends him through the roof. He jolts, pawing frantically at his pockets. When he sees the notification on his phone, his heart lurches uncomfortably.

**Hongjoong💖** : please just talk to me

**Hongjoong💖** : im not mad

It’s only been a day and a half, but it feels like a lifetime. The two have gone steady for months now, and Hwa doesn’t think they’ve gone twenty-four hours without even a simple “hope your day is good” message. But he can’t face Hongjoong, he can’t. Not after what he did. Seonghwa suffers whiplash every time he even thinks of what happened two nights prior. Things had been going so well. It’s not like they were perfect, but Seonghwa loved what they had before he went and ruined it. Though he wills it not to, the horrific, erroneous moment replays in his head.

It was two nights ago, after one of their chill sessions in Hwa’s room. Hongjoong had nodded off ten minutes into movie number three - Hwa’s signal that the night was over. After rousing the reluctant redhead from his slumber, the two did their usual routine of the prolonged goodbye. Hongjoong whined, Seonghwa griped, Hongjoong whined more, Hwa picked him up and started carrying him out of the room - it’s practically a ritual at this point, one Seonghwa quickly came to adore. But then he fucked it up bigtime.

As he walked Hongjoong to the door, all smiles and glowing with adoration, his fat mouth dropped a nuclear stupidity bomb:

“Goodnight,” Hwa laughed naively, not knowing what his idiotic brain had in store.

“Night,” Joong replied sleepily.

They kissed again, because the wee hours of the morning do nothing but exaggerate their sappiness. Then, just as Hongjoong floated out the door, Seonghwa said it:

“Goodnight. I love you.”

His sleep deprived, overworked, lovesick brain didn’t even immediately register it. It took a minute of blank, shocked staring from Hongjoong for Seonghwa to really understand what he said. Like any reasonable human who’d just removed their heart and presented it to their boyfriend, Seonghwa panicked and shut the door in the other's face.

He hasn’t been able to talk to the other since.

Every time he thinks of it, his face sets alight with utter humiliation. He’d been tossing around the thought in his head, but that’s different than saying it. Seonghwa’s never said it to anyone before,  _ ever _ . (Well, anyone who isn’t his family.)

The blond emerges from the staircase and beelines it for his room. Halfway there, his phone buzzes again. He braces himself for another heart-wrenching text from Hongjoong. Instead, he’s hit with something even worse. He groans as he reads the notification:

**Mingi** : hi love :)

Another one rolls in seconds later:

**Sannie☀️** : hey hwa. Havin a LOVEly day? 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and responds to Mingi first.

(You): are u 2 goons studying together or?

Notifications for his group chat pop up:

**Mingi** : maybe so :)

**Sannie☀️** : and what of it

Hwa huffs loudly and leans against the nearest wall, fingers tapping furiously.

(You): STOP BEING RUDE AND STUDY YOU EGGS

**Mingi** : :_( thats not very cash money of you to say

**Mingi** : were just celebrating the joy of love

**Sannie☀️** : yeah god hwa :/ thats not a very lovely attitude

(You): seriously stop

The blond pinches the bridge of his nose. Usually he’s cool with his friend’s annoying antics. He knows damn well that, in their own way, this is how they express their love. But right now he’s too busy agonizing over whether or not  _ his _ love has been scared away for good. He’d love for the other two to maybe understand that for a second. Why would they do that, though? After all, laughing at his expense is  _ so  _ much more fun.

**Mingi** : stop what

**Sannie☀️** : no i wont stop loving u 

**Sannie☀️** : xoxox

(You): ffs

(You): yall are children

**Mingi** : they dont call me big baby for nothin

**Sannie☀️** : we’re YOUR children never 4get

**Sannie☀️** : dw tho i approve of the new stepdad ;)

(You): die

**Mingi** : ok but like… maybe try talking to him??

**Mingi** : i kno its a novel concept but like

**Mingi** : i read about it once in a scientific journal

**Mingi** : talking about stuff works

**Mingi** : instead of bottling it up

(You): youve gotta be shitting me

**Sannie☀️** : the big baby has a point

**Sannie☀️** : shunning him is just making it worse

(You): idk what the fuck to say ok??

(You): im thinking about it

(You): when i know, then ill talk to him

**Mingi** : how long will that take?? lmao

**Mingi** : i mean do u love him or not

Seonghwa angrily starts typing the response: “of course I d” - he doesn’t finish it. Ultimately, it’s none of their business, and the fact that they’re bothring him while knowing how stressed he is just further contributes to the simmering ire in his gut.

(You): dont worry about it

(You): just stop mentioning it please

**Sannie☀️** : awww hwa come onnnn

**Sannie☀️** : dont be like that u kno we are kiddinnng

**Mingi** : yeah its obv hongjoong is super into you

**Mingi** : like he’d care

**Mingi** : u could prob call him a cumdumpster and hed swoon

**Sannie☀️** : jesus

(You): seriously ??

(You): this is different

**Mingi** : im js you HAVE HIM he is SNATCHED he is CUFFED

**Sannie☀️** : more whipped than heavy cream!

**Mingi** : so just talk to him

**Mingi** : like what are u doing wasting time??

(You): im WHAT

(You): bro im THINKING

**Mingi** : about WHAT 

**Mingi** : WHAT is there to THINK ABOUT???

**Mingi** : its SIMPLE my dude step 1. talk step 2. bone. or not idk

**Mingi** : yall rly got it THAT easy ok i PROMISE

(You): what are u the love doctor now??

(You): lmao

**Mingi** : yes call me DOCTOR mingi

**Mingi** : honestly we just want u to b happy and STOP OVERCOMPLICATING THINGS

**Mingi** : you two are so good like its relationships on ez mode

**Mingi** : listen to me, the love doctor 

Anger shoots through Seonghwa’s veins. Since when is self proclaimed “big baby” Mingi an expert? And where does he, of all people, get off telling Seonghwa what he should or shouldn’t be doing? Not to mention him implying that their relationship is “easy mode”. He doesn’t know the half of the insanity the two have worked through, not to mention the little things they work on every day. Hwa impulsively texts back:

(You): whats the love doctor have to say about guys who’ve been lusting after their best friend for years but done shit all about it?

**Mingi** : wat

**Mingi** : dont change the subject

**Sannie☀️** : llmao the deflection

**Sannie☀️** : u aint slick !!

(You): i’m not the one deflecting

(You): are you like pretending not to notice he’s madly in love with you or?

(You): maybe things would be “simple” for you if you actually told san you were into him

**Sannie☀️** : LMAO

**Sannie☀️** is typing...

“Hey!” A sudden voice behind Hwa startles the shit out of him. The blond jumps, and his phone manages to somehow fly across the hallway. Nerves twisted into a tangled mess, he dives for it, pawing around the floor desperately.

“Wh-Whoa, sorry,” The person behind him chuckles.

With a glare, Hwa turns over his shoulder, ready to lay into the jackass who thought it’d be funny to sneak up on him. The curses he’d readied never leave his throat. Instead they sort of sit there and choke him. His heart drops at the sight of his boyfriend’s lopsided grin and strawberry red hair. 

“Uh- uh- H-hi,” Seonghwa stutters out pathetically. He stands up and dusts himself off, suddenly very conscious of his appearance.

“Hi,” Hongjoong greets the other again. There’s a timidness to him, a fragility. Even though Seonghwa had been the one to blurt out the crucial three-word phrase, he appears just as nervous. Hwa wracks his brain as to why. Then he remembers he still doesn’t even know what he’s gonna say. As much as he’d been trying to figure out what to tell the other, he never  _ actually  _ came up with anything.

“Hey,” Seonghwa replies with a weak smile. “I…” He what?  _ What _ ? He doesn’t know. “I’m…” In love with Hongjoong? Regretful? “Sorry.” The word comes out without forethought.

“Hm?” Hongjoong’s brows raise with confusion.

“Um, yeah, I am- I’m sorry, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says with a sense of finality because, yes, he is sorry.

But for what, exactly? For blurting out something so heavy? For shutting the door in his face? For ghosting him subsequently?

“For… What?” Hongjoong asks. Dammit, Hwa curses, why did he have to  _ ask _ ?

“I- For- for everything. I- I shouldn’t have- really just- I’m sorry about everything. All of it,” That ought to cover the bases.

“You are?” Joong frowns, and the glum expression sets off alarms in Seonghwa’s brain.

“Y-  _ No _ ,” Hwa coughs up. “No not- not literally… Everything.” He briefly contemplates sprinting to his room and locking himself inside. Ultimately, he decides against it. He’s pretty sure Joong is faster than him, and in his current disheveled state, there’s a good chance he would trip and fall. 

“Then… Then what are you sorry for?” Hongjoong asks almost pleadingly. God, he looks so sincere, so genuine. Seonghwa briefly loses brain function entirely, too enthralled by the other’s beauty. He’s always so steadfast, Hongjoong, and the sight of him vulnerable flips some kind of switch in Seonghwa that makes his blood rush and heart pound even faster.

“Um,” It’s a good question. What  _ is _ he sorry for? He tries sorting through the mess of regret, anxiety, affection and humiliation. “I’m sorry I ghosted you,” That’s a good one to start with, he thinks. And, in truth, he  _ is  _ sorry. In hindsight it was a terrible idea. 

“It’s… It’s okay. It happens,” Joong replies. “I just- Can we actually talk about this?”

Hwa gulps nervously, “Uh. Here?” He gestures to the hall. Anyone can walk by at any moment, and Seonghwa can’t handle the humiliation of someone overhearing. 

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” Joong’s eyes drift over Hwa’s shoulder, down the hall to the RA’s room.

“Yeah, sure,” The obliging remark is made almost out of reflex. It’s not until he’s shutting the door behind them that Seonghwa realizes how dangerous this is. Save for shoving the other out and locking the door, there’s no real escape from Hongjoong’s discerning gaze anymore.

The redhead takes his usual post on the egg chair. He wraps his arms around one of Hwa’s dragon plushies and fiddles with it’s little legs mindlessly. It occurs to Hwa that it was the redhead’s idea to “really talk about this”. He still has zero idea what exactly to say or do, so he kneels at his mini fridge and offers the other something to drink.

“No, no that’s fine,” Joong mumbles in response.

When the blond turns around to see him, the redhead is more wound up than ever. His knees are tucked up on the chair, and he’s got the poor Toothless plush in a deathlock. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa breaths out, frowning. “Look, I’m sorry if what I said freaked you out.” His heart drops. “If it’s easier, just forget about it, seriously. I know that’s… It’s… I don’t even know, I just- it came out. You- you don’t have to say anything to it-”

“Wait-” Hongjoong tries to cut in weakly.

“-like we can just. Leave it,” Hwa blathers on, “Like- it can be like I never said anything. Just, um- you don’t have to be freaked out it was really just-”

“Seonghwa-”

“It sort of, I dunno, it just- I was tired and-”

“Seonghwa-”

“Like, it doesn’t have to mean- what- what you-”

“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong shouts, and the other’s mouth snaps shut. Taking a deep breath, the redhead shakily speaks. “I- I love you, too.”

The words come out almost mute, and Seonghwa freezes for a few seconds upon hearing them. He wonders if he’d dreamed it up, or if he’s finally lost his mind. The room goes silent. It’s just an exchange of stressed, uncertain looks between them for a few minutes. A pin dropping would be loud in comparison to the stark silence.

Hongjoong searches Seonghwa desperately for an answer; however, Hwa is entirely incapable of delivering one. His brain function is shot, a hundred thoughts and feelings all swarming in at once. 

Hongjoong loves him.

Hongjoong _ loves him _ .

It’s exhilarating and heart-wrenching and suffocating in a way that’s almost excruciating yet so, so thrilling. He’d never made peace with what he said, nor did he admit to himself that, yes, he does love Hongjoong. But hearing the other’s confession is an affirmation, and the love he’s kept reigned back intensifies tenfold. Part of that terrifies him. He loves Hongjoong, he does. He’s known it for longer than he wanted to admit, but now there’s no hiding. God, he loves Hongjoong. It’s an intense, visceral thing, the way his heart wrenches and every cell in his body glows with warmth. There’s an overwhelming desire to just entirely almost consume the other - to wrap around him with affection and protection, to shield him and to adore him. And it’s so weird to think he’s feeling this at his age, but he can’t deny it. The realization makes him dizzy, and it’s the other’s tiny voice that again pulls him out of his stupor.

“Hwa?” Hongjoong practically squeaks. “Please say something.”

Seonghwa doesn’t. Speaking has, historically, just gotten him in deeper shit than intended. Instead, he closes the gap between them and yanks Hongjoong off the chair. The force with which he kisses the other is almost bruising. The redhead lets out a whimper of surprise as he yields. Hwa wraps his arms around Hongjoong tightly and pours everything into that kiss. Joong scrambles to get a grip on the blond. His arms find their way around Seonghwa’s neck and he melts into the other. Fervent heat sears Seonghwa through the lips and shoots straight to his bloodstream. The intensity of the sensation borders between painful and blissful. No thoughts persist in Seonghwa’s mind, there is only him.

Him, him, him.

His love, his world, his fairy king, the budding young love once lost and forgotten.

When they finally separate, Seonghwa’s head somehow feels clearer than ever. It’s like, with that kiss, he’d finally banished all of his doubts and obstructions. Hongjoong looks a mess, lips bite-swollen and cheeks wearing a ruddy flush. He’s stunning like that, Seonghwa decides, and he can’t wait to sink his teeth into those supple lips and nuzzle that heated flesh again. But first, with his newfound clarity of mind, he decides he ought to verbalize a response.

“I love you, too, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa replies hushedly. He’s not sure why he’s being quiet, it just seems right. 

“Are- are you sure?” Hongjoong lets out an airy laugh. “I- I mean once you say it, it’s like: no take backsies.” Figures he’d try to lighten the mood a bit.

“I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly everything that love entails, I just… I know I’ve never felt this way before and- and you,” Hwa still can’t quite find the words. “I just- I feel like you’re it, you know?” He lets out a sigh of relief. “I mean, what about you? You- you really don’t have to say it unless-”

“I’m sure,” Hongjoong responds adamantly. “I- I mean I… I am. Not like I’m an expert, but I… It has to be. Every time I- I picture my future, my ideal life… No matter what version of fantasy I envision, you’re there. It’s always you. There’s no version of my future that doesn’t have you. And- and I don’t want there to be.” He nibbles on his lip nervously, “And that- that kinda scares me a bit, to be honest.”

“That’s okay, I- yeah, me too, that’s- this is… New,” Seonghwa lets out a weak chuckle.

“But, like, it’s… It’s definitely a thing, so. I’m not gonna pretend I don’t daydream about us.”

“You’re so cute,” Hwa punctuates the statement with a kiss on the cheek. “Aw, you really daydream about us? What kind of daydreams?” He smirks.

“Wh- I just confess my  _ love  _ to you, and you wanna know if I’m dreaming of picket fences or high rises?” Hongjoong pouts.

“Well…” Hwa raises his brows. “You don’t strike me as the picket fence type, but you are full of surprises.”

“Oh my god!” Hongjoong smacks the blond on the shoulder. 

“Or are you going left field and we live in, like, the  _ country  _ country?” Hwa squeezes Joong on the side, making the redhead wiggle. “Do we have dogs? Or cats?”

“Keep going and I’m gonna redact my love.”

“Wh- Okay, fine,” Seonghwa animatedly huffs. “Hey, you know what, thought?”

“What?” Hongjoong asks annoyedly.

“I love you,” Hwa replies coolly.

“Wh- Ff-”

“I love you.”

“Stop.”

“I  _ love  _ you.”

“You’re gonna wear the phrase out.”

“As if you’ll ever get tired of hearing it. With your ego?”

“ _ Wow _ ,” Hongjoong pushes off of the other to jump on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Hwa asks with a laugh.

Joong wraps himself up in the blankets like a burrito, rolling around until his back is facing Seonghwa, “I’m taking a nap and sleepsiling you.”

“Sleepsiling?”

“Like exiling, but with sleep. I sleep and you go away.”

“And what if I don’t go away?”

  
“Well then you better cuddle, because you deprived me of our afternoon naptime when you were being a spaz.”

“Wh- You mean the  _ day and a half  _ I didn’t talk to you?”

“Spaz.”

“I  _ deprived _ you?”

“Yes,” Joong replies adamantly, back still to Hwa.

“Okay. Drama king.”

“Hi pot, my name is kettle.”

“Ugh- Well,” Hwa huffs in defeat. He knows damn well he doesn’t have the willpower to deny Hongjoong much of anything, let alone an afternoon cuddle session. “Move over and unwrap yourself. How am I supposed to cuddle with a burrito?”

“Fine,” Hongjoong groans loudly as he disentangles himself from the heap of blankets he’d rolled up in.

Hwa grins and crosses over to the bed, ready to hop in and go off to dreamland. However, something itches in the back of his head. It’s like he’d forgotten something, but what?

The lightbulb flickers on after a few seconds of thinking, and panic jolts Hwa out of his lovey-dovey happy spell.

San and Mingi.

In his emotionally compromised state, he sort of said a few things that he had no right to say. Guilt drags across his gut as he desperately opens the groupchat, hoping they laughed it off. Surely they did, right? 

His heart dips when he sees that not a single message had been sent since San’s last “LMAO”. It is by far the most ominous “LMAO” Seonghwa had never seen. Had the two just laughed it off side by side in the library? Did they talk about it? Did they chalk it up to Seonghwa being cranky? Desperately, the blond taps out a recovery message:

(You): you know i was joking right?

No response comes.

(You): dont tell me u guys are actually studying

He never gets anything back. He supposes that they’ve got their own lives, and he has his. Currently, his involves an adorable, sexy redhead beckoning him into bed. The sight of that promptly overrides any other thoughts or worries floating around in Seonghwa’s head. Giddily, he hops onto bed and wraps his arms around the other. The two kiss a few more times - languid, drippy affections that they draw out as long as they possibly can before sleep finally takes them.

* * *

“I’m gonna get it this time,” Seonghwa insists, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in utter concentration.

“Sure you are, hon,” Hongjoong responds from behind his tablet. Ten tries ago, he’d been nose deep in the latest edition of Vogue, but considering that the digital tome consists mostly of ads, Hwa wonders if he’s done with it already. 

“I’m serious, I got really far last time,” Hwa says. 

He and Joong were at a house party - some friend of Hongjoong’s friend. As fun as drinking and playing games with the university’s fashion elite was, the couple quickly realised that they had no actual obligation to be present. The beauty of having a significant other at a party is that the two of you can duck out at any time that you like. Before Hwa would awkwardly hug the walls and try to announce his departure to the one or two obscure connections he had at any given party. Now, he doesn’t have to do that. All a couple has to say is “we’re gonna go” and nobody bats an eyelash.

The pair of them ditched drinks for donuts and jeans for sweats. After deciding they lacked the attention span for watching anything meaningful, Hwa fired up his favorite (very punishing) RPG and Joong grabbed his tablet. While the redhead laid out on the other’s bed, Seonghwa entrenched himself in the throes of war. Seonghwa’s gotten his ass whooped by the same boss about a dozen times at this point, but he swears  _ this _ , this’ll be the time he gets past it.

“Hwa, I’ve got a question,” Hongjoong says, still not bothering to look up from his tablet.

“Can it wait a sec? I gotta focus,” Seonghwa responds through clenched teeth.

“Why do you like this game?”

“Wh- It’s a good game.”

“Yeah, but you suck at it.”

“Everyone sucks at it.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure-ff-“ Hwa gasps as he nearly gets impaled by some undead knight’s spear.

“I’m just saying, it seems frustrating. What’s so fun about it?”

“It’s-“ Hwa pauses to parry another oncoming strike. “-rewarding. The satisfaction when you do get something is amazing.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“I dunno, you seem frustrated most of the time.”

“Yeah, well, that’s part of the- the-“ He just barely dodge rolls away from another knight. “-experience.”

“Heh. That’s so weird,” Joong chuckles. “So you just enjoy annoying, frustrating things?”

“Why do you think I love you so much?”

“Wha-!” Hongjoong guffaws. “Rude!”

Seonghwa, completely honed in on his TV screen, is powereless to fend off the onslaught of projectiles flying toward him. At first, it’s a little dragon, then a bigger one. The final, ending blow comes from his biggest pillow. The mass of fluff blocks his entire view, and his wail of protest is muffled by its cushiony grip. A shrill of strings from the TV signals Seonghwa that, yet again, he’s failed another attempt. When he manages to bat the pillow away, the death screen taunts him with its simple, monotone graphics.

He turns to stare daggers at his boyfriend, to which the redhead responds with nothing but a nonchalant shrug.

Hongjoong smirks,“We both know you weren’t gonna get through anyw- hey!”

Seonghwa cuts him off by jumping on the bed and tackling him. He grabs the nearest soft thing he can find and smacks Hongjoong liberally. The redhead yelps, throwing his hands in front of his face for protection. He weakly attempts to slap Hwa’s hands way to no avail. 

“I- I didn’t do anything!” Hongjoong shouts between giggles. “Stop being mean- this is cyberbullying!” We tries to wriggle out from under the other, but Seonghwa firmly plants his knees on either side of the other’s hip.

“Say you’re sorry!” 

“No, I’m not sorry. Also, you suck at that game-“

“Wh- This is uncalled for! Die!” He squishes the other’s face with his pillow. After a few more cushiony blows, Hongjoong’s head cocks to the side, and he sticks his tongue out.

“Bleh,” The redhead says dramatically. “I’m dead now.” For a dead man, he sure is smiley.   
  


“Fine,” Hwa pouts in defeat. He tosses his pillow aside, “Come back to life.”

“Mm… No,” Joong smirks. “There’s only one way to bring me back now.” He rests his head back properly so he’s facing Hwa full on and purses his lips.

It takes the blond a second; when he gets it, he chuckles. Leaning down slowly, he feels the other’s breath tickle his skin. 

“True love’s kiss, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, if it’s the only way to bring you back.”

“It’s the only way.”

“Then who am I to deny you?” A heady warmth pulses through Seonghwa’s entire body as he presses his lips on Hongjoong’s. It’s a pleasant pang of affection and want, an almost dizzying high. He can feel the other’s lush lips curve into a smile beneath his own. Though Hwa went in for a quick peck, apparently Hongjoong had other ideas. The redhead snakes his arms around the other’s neck in a firm hold.

Kissing him is like home to Seonghwa. It’s happy, familiar and soothing. He could live there, he thinks, lazily entangled with the other, tasting his lips. Happy sighs trickle out from between their lips as the kiss deepens, introducing tongue and nibbling. Hongjoong seems more comfortable these days, more acquainted with the curve of Seonghwa’s lips and the rows of his teeth. But he still doesn’t lack for that enthusiasm, that almost frantic way he deepens a kiss, asking for more.

Seonghwa rests more of his weight on the other. Their bodies slot nicely together, Hwa being taller, broader. He wraps around the other, thighs by his hips, arms on the bed around Joong’s head. A veil of warmth wraps around the two. Beneath it there’s only them. The drone of the death screen sounds muffled, muted, not even there - even the lights dim. Seonghwa forgets about everything other than the beautiful person beneath him.

Hongjoong starts getting antsy as he does. He wriggles and writhes ever so slightly, wanting but too inexperienced to confidently advance. The noises dribbling out from between their kisses grow more tonal and whiny, and the sweet lilting whimpers, for how tiny they are, devastate Seonghwa. It’s so damn adorable, the way he wants. Hwa’s never been wanted like this. Something about Hongjoong’s affections - even the most desirous ones - are so pure. He loves Seongha and wants him, and all he wants to do is show it. Grinding his hips up or sucking on the blond’s lower lip isn’t just a means to a climactic end or action of obligation for him. It’s done out of sheer affection, an almost wholesome passion. 

Hwa almost feels guilty, because while he does adore and love his boyfriend, his intentions are laced with something much less pure. Though he never dares to push it, he’s always wanted to just devour the other. It’s weird and almost carnal. Just as Seonghwa’s never recieved love the way Hongjoong gives it, just like he’s never felt it like he has with Hongjoong, he’s never experienced the sort of want he has for the other. He wants to worship every inch of Hongjoong’s skin with kisses until he’s flushed a deeper red than his hair. He wants to hear every single little pathetic sound the other can possibly make and savor his stuttered pleas for more, more, more, please more. He needs Hongjoong to want it, though, to ask for it even. 

Until then, he focuses on just enjoying the beautiful things he can have - like the way Hongjoong’s breath hitches, or how he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Seonghwa noses at Joong’s cheek, trailing kisses across the flushed skin, along his jaw and down to his neck. Hwa curses the other’s hoodie for covering up so much. His hands wander to the elastic band at the hem, fiddling with it slightly. He presses wet kisses beneath Joong’s jaw and up to his ear. Sweet vindication shoots through his veins when he hears a tiny whimper leave the other’s lips. Seonghwa shamelessly abuses the redhead’s sensitive spot - just where his jaw and neck meet, beneath his ear. The other’s body shudders beneath him, and the vibrations send shockwaves of want through Hwa’s entire body.

“H-Hwa,” Hongjoong murmurs breathlessly. “Hwa, one sec.” 

The blond immediately halts. He sits up and eyes the other inquisitively, guilt gnawing in his chest. He didn’t think he’d done anything the other was uncomfortable with, but who knows. Hongjoong wiggles around awkwardly, and at first Seonghwa has no idea what the other’s doing. He makes a move to dismount but stops when he notices Joong slip his fingers under the hem of his hoodie. The redhead shucks the offensive outer layer, tossing the dark sweatshirt off of the bed carelessly. Underneath it he’s wearing one of those simple white tees of him with a sinfully wide neckline. All Hwa can do is raise his brows in surprise before the other pulls him in for another kiss hungrily. 

Teeth knock and tongues lash as the two collide again. Hongjoong’s fervor stokes the fire in Seonghwa’s gut, provoking it into something increasingly harder to control. They tangle again, legs between legs, arms around a neck, a waist. A happy haze of simmering bliss fills Seonghwa’s head as he takes more of Hongjoong’s skin between his lips. He moves down the other’s neck, sucking supple flesh between his teeth. Hongjoong cards his fingers through Hwa’s blond locks, gently urging him closer. 

Seonghwa not-so-gently indulges the other. He tugs the collar of the shirt down and sinks his teeth in just beneath the other’s clavicle. Hongjoong gasps softly as Seonghwa soothes the reddened skin with gentle kisses and sucking. Hwa’s fingers make their way underneath Hongjoong’s shirt. The blond digs his fingers into the searing flesh, savoring the sensation of skin on skin contact. He’s done this much before - mostly teasing, light touches. Sometimes, he would Hongjoong under the shirt and just rub little circles there. He’d run his thumb over the jut of his pelvis bones and along the V line that runs beneath his waistband. Joong even started mimicking the other, beginning with touches so light they tickled. It’s familiar to them now - once again, something so objectively insignificant feels so incredible to Seonghwa. He confidently runs his palms up Hongjoong’s stomach and chest. Joong’s back arches into the touch, and Hwa can feel the other’s arousal brush against him.

Hwa takes the other’s lips once more, swallowing down all of the breathy moans leaving the other’s throat. He can feel his composure slipping as the coil of tension mounting in his gut continues to tighten. God, he wants him. He wants him so bad. He wants anything and everything Hongjoong will let him have. Hongjoong’s body starts rocking in rhythm with Seonghwa’s as he takes more, more, more - more veracious kisses, more flesh beneath his palms. He teases and caresses the redhead’s sensitive spots, relishing in how the other - once so hesitant - happily melts into his touch. 

The blond withdraws from the kiss, taking a second to admire the other. He drinks it all in: flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, long lashes fanned out over his half-lidded gaze. Hwa slides his hands back down the other’s sides and takes hold of the hem. He watches Hongjoong’s face carefully as he slowly pulls the shirt up. It’s like unwrapping a present. Instead of tearing the shirt away, Hwa is content slowly peeling the fabric back and taking in the sight of the other’s beautiful, bare torso. For someone who comes off as so small, Hongjoong is surprisingly built. The first time Seonghwa did this he remembers being shocked. Apparently, it showed on his face, because Joong even made a comment about it, sputtering out an insecure “w-what?”. Hwa quelled those insecurities quickly, suffocating them with adoration and reassurances. Now, Hongjoong keens as Hwa trails wet kisses up his abdomen.

“Ah-ff-” The redhead huffs at the other’s ministrations. Seonghwa wonders if he could undo Hongjoong just like this, with nothing but relentless friction.

The other’s a quivering mess under Seonghwa, all stuttering breaths and fidgeting fingers. Maybe he’s close. Does he even know if he’s close? Would he be able to communicate it? He doesn’t seem spooked or uncomfortable, but he doesn’t exactly seem clearheaded, either. Is he thinking at all? Or what if he’s shaking because he’s nervous but he’s too timid to stop Seonghwa?

Seonghwa plants a kiss on Joong’s sternum and sits up. He cups the redhead’s face with his hand, lovingly caressing the other’s lower lip with his thumb.

“Hey,” He says in a low voice, “You okay with this?”

It takes Hongjoong a few seconds to respond. His breathing slows, and he pouts.

“You’ve got my shirt pushed up past my nipples and you’re asking this now?” He cries.

Hwa chuckles, “Sorry, I just- we’re moving fast is all. Obviously, I don’t mind, but you… I don’t want you to be nervous”

“I-” Hongjoong starts strong, but he falters. “Of course I’m gonna be a little nervous. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it or- or want it. I just- I’m not used to this.”

“Course you aren’t,” Seonghwa replies. He pecks the other on the cheek reassuringly. “Nobody is- I mean, like, at least not at first. As natural as sex is, intimacy definitely doesn’t feel natural.”

“Yeah,” Joong runs a hand through his hair, his head lolling back. His body slackens, a sign of the tension uncoiling as the two relax and slow down a bit. “But, like, I’m not gonna get over it without trying it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to rip your clothes off tonight.”

“Seonghwa, I want to,” Hongjoong responds unwaveringly, dark gaze set on Seonghwa’s.

That brings all of the blond’s thoughts to a screeching halt. Lighting strikes his body, a shock of arousal and want rippling through his bloodstream.

The redhead backpedals, his confidence fumbling slightly, “I- I mean not, like,  _ literally _ rip my clothes off. I just- I wanna be with you like that. I  _ do _ , I’m just-” He sighs. “I dunno.”

“Nervous?” Hwa tries filling in the blanks.

“I- I mean yeah, I guess, sort of. I- I dunno. Can I tell you something?”

“Hm?” Hwa quirks an eyebrow. He decides to give the other space and gets off of him, laying on his side beside the redhead instead.

Joong turns onto his side so they’re facing one another, and he replies, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“When you preface it like that, I- I dunno if I can promise.”

“Look, I just- I was traumatized, okay?” Hongjoong lets out a laugh.

“You were traumatized?”

“Yes. Traumatized. Like, I, okay, when I was like… Thirteen- not, not technically thirteen, but I guess you could say two years after I got out of Neverland, I…” He bites his tongue worriedly. “I definitely looked at porn.”

“You mad man,” Hwa jokes.

“Shut up, I’m serious,” Hongjoong playfully shoves the other. “It grossed me out so much that sex literally repulsed me for years like- like gag flex inducing.”

“Was it straight?”

“Oh my god- listen, I don’t think it would’ve mattered, I just-” Joong’s face scrunches into an expression of disgust and he shakes his head. “-ugh. No. No, no, no.”

Seonghwa frowns, “Wait, if you’re- if it really repulses you or freaks you out, we really don’t have to-”

“No, don’t worry I’m- I’m fine now. Trust me, I’m good. I just… A few years later I happened to stumble upon a book that had sex scenes, and I was okay with it. The way they described it, it just… It made sense to me why people would wanna do it. It had none of the over the top, gross stuff that, uh, visual mediums often do. Maybe I just have, like, great taste in books but the way it was described it just… Yeah, it kinda opened doors, I guess.” He laughs sheepishly, embarrassed at the admission. “So, yeah, obviously literature is my preferred medium. I just- My point was that, like, I- I don’t have the, like, I don’t know, I just- I could never… Picture myself doing that with someone, being ‘intimate’ in your words. It’s still a really foreign concept, so I just… I’m sorry if-”

“ _ No _ apologizing,” Hwa cuts the other off. “I get it. Or I think I do? It’s not just lack of experience but a lack of… It’s like you didn’t have a really good relationship with the idea of it, right?”

“Yeah, something like that. I just never really wanted it or thought I’d want it. I sort of got why other people did - if it was anything like the books I read, I mean- I get it, but I really didn’t think it’d happen for me. That feeling. The desire, but…” His eyes find Seonghwa’s again, and he tells the other pointedly: “That changed.”

Hwa’s heart does about ten flips, and the heat that’d reduced to a low simmer in his stomach flares up again. Knowing that he’s the person that changed that, that Hongjoong’s other side is reserved for him and him alone is excrutiating.

“Thank you for telling me,” Seonghwa replies, his voice husky. He tries to keep his eyes on the other’s, but they constantly flit to his plush, bitten lips instead.

“Yeah, well, you embarrass yourself in front of me all the time, so,” Joong shrugs and smirks. “Thought I’d return the favor.”

“Wow,” Hwa playfully shoves the other’s shoulder. “Real nice.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“I love you,” Seonghwa responds with a grin. Even though Joong tries to play it off, Seonghwa can tell it affects him. It always does. Contrary to the redhead’s assertions, repeating the phrase has yet to tire it out. As much as he adores the other, it doesn’t exempt him from getting teased back. “So… You like erotica, then?”

“I  _ said  _ it was my preferred medium.”

“Right. I’m just curious. What do you like to read about?” The question is half joking half serious. He is genuinely curious what his boyfriend likes.

“Okay-” Joong coughs out, “What someone likes to read and likes in life are two different things.”

“Oh come on, just tell me one thing. I’m not making fun of you, I just want to know.”

“Mm-mm. Nope.”

“Is it bad?”

“N-no.”

“So it’s really vanilla?”

“Stop!”

“Wh- Hongjoong I am your boyfriend. How am I gonna give you want you want if you don’t tell me?”

“How about we get over my normal intimacy issues before introducing other stuff into the equation?”

“Fine,” Hwa dramatically pouts. “Guess I’ll have to figure it out for myself.” He grabs the other’s face again and goes in for a kiss. Whatever protest or quip back Hongjoong had, it ends up coming out as nothing but a little squeak. Hwa thought that whatever heat and momentum they’d gained would’ve diminished a lot more. However, in minutes they’re right where they’d left off - Hongjoong writhing underneath Seonghwa as he sucks and laps at the nibs on his chest.

Hwa still has half a mind to see if he can finish Hongjoong off like that. Lecherous images reel through his head as he continues. His hands are planted firmly on Hongjoong’s hips, keeping the other from bucking up too much. He’s in control - something that simultaneously exhilirates him and exerts immense pressure. He wants the other to feel good and happy and loved, but the more Hongjoong keeps acting like this, the harder it is to think properly.

A small hand wraps around Seonghwa’s wrist. The blond thinks Joong’s gonna take it off, but instead the redhead moves it across his body. Hongjoong guides Hwa’s wrist across his lower abdomen and down. He keeps going until Seonghwa’s fingers dip just under the waistband of his pants. And underwear. Seonghwa completely freezes. He stops kissing Joong, and his mind goes completely mute. As if in response to the other’s dumbfoundedness, Hongjoong gently nudges Hwa’s hand down further. Hwa takes a sharp breath through his teeth when coarse hair just barely tickles fingertips. Sweltering hotness laps at his insides, tempting him to take a mile where he’d been given an inch. He reels it back, though, looking to the other for guidance. Moving forward is more than just chasing a physical high, it could mean something more profound for the other.

“Hongjoong, are you sure?” Seonghwa whispers.

“I’m sure,” Hongjoong replies, airy but unshaken.

“Are you really, really sure?”

“Yes.”

“Like, really, really,  _ really _ sure?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Joong huffs frustratedly. “I- I thought you wanted this.”

“I do. Holy shit, I  _ do _ , I just-” Seonghwa worries at his lower lip, “What if this is, like, it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I- I mean, like, you’ve had alcohol. You’ve dated, you’ve… Kissed, made out.”

“Hwa? Wait, do you mean-”

“What if this is, like, the last nail in the coffin? Your last shred of innocence left? What if giving this up means you can truly never return?” It’s been so long since that place has come up between them. Occasionally, it bubbles up into private conversations, they’ll regale fun memories from their childhood or Hongjoong will mention some strange, unique quirk that the place had. However, it hadn’t been the center of serious conversation. Ever since laying everything on the table, Joong had barely spoken about his research or living there alone or how he’d tirelessly pursued that place for years of his life.

“I don’t care,” Hongjoong says with stern finality.

“That could be your horny mind speaking,” Seonghwa tries to reason with him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take things further, because he does.  _ God _ , does he want Hongjoong. But he wants Hongjoong to be certain. He called Neverland home for years. While in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t sound like a long time, for Hongjoong those were some of the best years of his life. Neverland provided things that nobody ever could - security, safety, friendship, adventures unheard of. Hell, it even gave Seonghwa those things. Sure, Joong gave up on his obsessive search, but did he really want to seal away the possibility of the place forever?

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“Hwa, I would  _ never _ regret being with you,” Hongjoong’s eyes find Seonghwa’s. They’re wet, but even so, he’s adamant. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Which is why I just want you to be a hundred percent certain.”

“I am,” Hongjoong replies. “I don’t care anymore.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Seonghwa, you’re my Neverland now. My home, my shelter, everything... Even if not forever. I mean- nothing lasts forever that’s- that’s something I’m coming to terms with. I don’t know what the future holds. All I know is that: I love you, and if this is the thing that shuts me out of there for the rest of my life- if- if this is the nail in the coffin, then… There is nobody I would want to take me through this rite of passage more than you.”

That’s a definitive answer.

Hongjoong is stubborn as hell, and hearing that, Seonghwa’s convinced he’s not budging. Being the sentimental sap that he is, Hwa tries not to sniffle when he thinks about what the other said - what he  _ did _ .

Before, when faced with a choice, Hongjoong chose Neverland.

This time - without hesitation - he chose Seonghwa.

“I love you,” Seonghwa shifts up to peck Hongjoong on the lips.

“I love you, too,” Hongjoong murmurs before kissing Seonghwa.

“Just relax,” Hwa speaks against the other’s skin as he slides down the other’s torso yet again. He presses delicate kisses on the feverish skin as he goes down. “Let me treat you right.” With the other’s consent, he hooks his fingers beneath the other’s waistband and slides it down.

* * *

“Morning sleepyhead,” Seonghwa greets the other with a big, dumb grin on his face. He doesn’t even care how stupid he looks. His hair’s probably a mess, not to mention his probably swollen face. But he’s too damn lovestruck and half-asleep to give a shit. Not to mention, his hot, sexy, naked boyfriend is baring everything as he lumbers back to bed from the bathroom. It was him stirring that’d woken Hwa in the first place - not that he minds. Judging by how bright the light filtering through the cracks of the blinds is, it’s around noon.

“Mmn,” Hongjoong grunts in reply as he hoists himself up onto the high bed. He’s also wearing signs of sleepiness - along with a few souvinirs from the previous night. Pocks of pink and purple dot his torso, and his lips still look swollen, probably abused after everything they’d gone through. Never before had Seonghwa ever seen the “after morning glow” so vividly illustrated. Even in the low light his skin seems luminous and vibrant, almost like he’d had a day at the spa. It’s so damn inviting - everything about him is. “Oh thank god. Warmth.” Hongjoong shivers as he slides under the blanket and sidles up to Seonghwa.

“You sleep okay?” Hwa asks, pressing a kiss on the other’s lips.

“Actually, yeah,” Hongjoong nods. His voice is still husky with sleep. “Like, I was _ knocked out _ . Probably the best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.”

“Good. I was afraid with this bed being so small it’d be kinda rough.”

“Nah. It was probably more of a hassle for you, you’re taller.”

Hwa chuckles, “The only hassle was this-” He grabs Hongjoong’s ass, making the other yelp in surprise a bit, “-grinding against me in the middle of the night.”

“I have  _ no _ idea what you’re talking about,” The redhead’s impish smirk completely betrays him.

“Yeah. Mhm.”

“I dunno, maybe I just wanted to get comfortable.”

“You have sex  _ one _ time, and you’re already a damn tease.”

“What? I was simply getting into a cozy position. Not my fault you can’t control yourself. Speaking of lack of control…” The redhead’s brows raise, and he glances down.

“I  _ just _ woke up. Are you serious?”

“And here I thought it was because you’re happy to see me.”

“Mm,” Hwa kisses the other again, “Why can’t it be a bit of both?”

“Fine, whatever. As long as I can sap the warmth from your body,” Hongjoong snuggles up closer, wrapping his arms around Hwa’s waist loosely. 

The blond trails kisses langurously up Joong’s forhead and on top of his hair. He basks in the other’s scent, in his presence. 

“Hey, Joong?” Hwa asks quietly.

“Hm?”

“Was it…?” Seonghwa trails off. The thought of asking “how was it” or “was it good for you, too” embarrasses the hell out of him. Still, he genuinely wants to know if he’s okay, if he’s sore, if he’s putting on a brave face or faking it, if he liked it, if it was as scary as he thought - so many questions float around in his head. “I- I mean, are you-”

“I’m fine, babe,” Hongjoong laughs, punctuating the statement with a peck on the nose. 

“So, I mean, for your first time it was- it was okay? Like, you’re not hurt or anything?”

“Not at all. You were very... Good to me,” His ears flush a little as he says it. He quickly covers the sheepish honesty up with a joke, though. “The best I’ve ever had.” He smirks.

“Ha  _ ha _ ,” Seonghwa responds facetiously. “I’m the only you’ve ever had. How do you even know it was good?”

“Oh, I never said it was  _ good _ ,” Joong snarks. “Actually, thinking back, it was  _ terrible _ .” He wiggles closer to Seonghwa, “So terrible that I think I need a round two to make up for it.”

“Oh  _ really _ ?”

“Really. I think I’m owed it, actually.”

“You’re  _ owed  _ it?!” Seonghwa guffaws, kissing the other. This one’s more than a simple peck. He draws it out, dragging his tongue along the other’s lower lip. Hongjoong happily lets him in, letting out a happy hum as Seonghwa explores his mouth.

Languid ecstasy surrounds the two as they make out. There’s none of the urgency or feverish, demanding need that they had the night before. It’s been vented for the interim. Instead, the couple luxuriates in one another. They take their time, lazily locking lips like nothing else matters, like they’ve got no other obligations in life. There is only Seonghwa and Hongjoong, their love and the intertwining of their bodies on the crappy twin extra long mattress in Seonghwa’s dorm room. That’s it.

It’s a dizzying, heady sensation. Seonghwa feels light just thinking about it. He doesn’t know the last time he’s felt so blissful. He ponders: has he  _ ever _ felt so blissful? It’s so drippy and over the top and sentimental and soft and extreme and saccharine and he loves it. He loves it, and he loves Hongjoong - and Hongjoong loves him. Every time he thinks about it, it’s like a shot of adrenaline straight to his bloodstream. He flies higher and higher on the feeling.

“Love you,” Hongjoong murmurs between lazy, wet kisses.

Hwa wraps his arms tightly around the other, “Love you, too.” It’s borderline disgusting, but being just the two of him, he couldn’t give less of a shit. He never saw the point of it before Hongjoong - being all mushy for the sake of it. He supposes it’s true what they say: love changes a man. Things that seemed over the top or stupid are almost natural to him now.

If only this could last forever.

Seonghwa feels almost light. He’s afraid if he lets go of Hongjoong, he’ll just drift away, off of planet earth and into the sky until he disappears. The pair tangle in the sheets as they intertwine their limbs, lackadaisically sinking deeper into their kiss. Part of Hwa still can’t believe what’s happening. He genuinely cannot believe that things have gone so nicely for them, that in spite of everything they’ve worked through it. He’d never known someone so worth fighting for than Hongjoong, never knew a love truer. The impassioned mirth fills his head like a thick fog as the world continues to fade around them. Humans can’t fly, but they can kiss the person they love - and Seonghwa’s starting to feel like it’s basically the same thing.

Hwa blinks his eyes open to take in the other’s morning-after beauty. At first he’s hung up on the usual things: flawless, ski-slope nose, pinky lips that so easily bloom into a full blown smile. But something in his peripheral vision catches his eye. At first, he doesn’t give it much thought. Something is… Off, but it’s hardly of consequence. Joong’s presence sort of takes precedence over anything else. There could be a fire, and Hwa would probably find a way to make it about how pretty Hongjoong looks in the amber light. But when he happens to look at it again, he realizes that it’s not just something little. Something is really,  _ really _ off. The blond’s jaw drops open - not anything to do with the kiss, but out of shock. He’d been so concentrated on savoring the presence of his lover, he’d enjoyed it so damn much, he felt like they were floating.

Because they  _ are _ .

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa utters with wide eyes fixed on the ground. The ground that’s below them. Way below them. His heart stops when he sees his entire dorm room from an aerial view. Even though the ceilings aren’t super high, everything looks smaller from up there. 

“Hm?” Joong is completely dazed, half-asleep and lovestruck.

“Uh- Hongjoong, we- uh-”

He did this - right? Seonghwa tries to reason with it. What if Hongjoong had been lying this entire time about not being able to use magic? What if he’d always been able to fly? What if he’s doing it right now to mess with Seonghwa? After all they’d been through, it seems unlikely - like ten thousand steps backwards - but how else can he explain this?

“We what?” Hongjoong asks, pressing wet kisses along Hwa’s jaw and neck.

“We’re, um- we are- J-Joong?”

“What?”

“How did you do that?”

“Do what? ‘M Kissing you right now, it’s nothing special,” He’s still completely oblivious.

“Joong this isn’t funny.”

“ _ What _ ?” Hongjoong backs off completely and glares at Seonghwa. “I’m not  _ doing _ anything.”

Hwa pauses to read the other’s face for a second. He concludes that Hongjoong genuinely is completely unaware. The redhead looks peeved, annoyed that he had to stop his morning makeout session because his boyfriend is being a spaz.

“Hongjoong, look down,” Seonghwa says.

“Look down- what the heck are you talking about there is nothing to look down o- oh my god!” Hongjoong yelps when he obliges Seonghwa. His eyes go comically wide and he wraps his entire body around Seonghwa. “Oh my god- oh my god! Hwa!”

“I told you-”

“Hwa wh- what’s going on?!”

“Wh- What do you mean?! I’m asking  _ you  _ what’s going on!” The pair bob around awkwardly, continuing to drift ever so slightly higher until Seonghwa feels the ceiling press into his back.

“I- I don’t know,” Hongjoong whimpers pathetically. Since when is he afraid of heights?

“Why would  _ I _ know?! I’m not the magical one. I thought you could fly!”

“I cannot fly I, like, hover.  _ Ish _ . If I jump off of something I can semi-slow my fall that is  _ not  _ the same as flying,” Joong huffs.

“Seems like flying to me.”

“It is not! I can slow my descent, I never go  _ up _ !”

“Well apparently, you can go up! So… So get us down,” Seonghwa says.

“Why is this  _ my  _ responsibility!?”

“Because you’re the magical fairy boy, remember? I’m the guy you kicked out because you wanted superpowers!”

“Wh- Are we doing this  _ now _ ?”

“I’m just saying, this is very much your area of expertise.”

“Okay, well, sorry to inform you: I have no idea how to get back down,” The redhead shudders. He kicks his legs around frantically, but the two just wobble in air. 

Hwa holds the other closer, chiding him, “S-Stop that!” The blanket that’d somehow manage to float up with them tangles awkwardly between their legs, making him panic more. “Joong stop- stop it-”

“I am trying, okay. I’m the ‘flying expert’ remember!”

“Alright, albatross, maybe just- just settle down a bit-” It feels immensely strange. In truth, Hwa barely remembers the sensation of flying from before. It felt so natural back then, he never questioned it. It just happened, guided by his thought. However, now his thoughts are all fixed on getting down - yet nothing seems to be happening.

“As opposed to what? I- We are literally hitting the ceiling!”

“W-Well, I dunno. What worked before?”

“I just- All I did was believe in magic. I just knew I could do it, so I did.”

“How did you steer yourself?”

“I didn’t steer, jackass!” Joong smacks Hwa’s shoulder. “I’m not a truck.”

“Wait- Didn’t it involve fairy dust?”

“What?”

“Did you- Did you sprinkle us with fairy dust?”

“What? No!” Hongjoong smacks Hwa again, this time harder. “Why are you acting like this is something I did?!”

“You’re the magical one!”

“I am not magical I am… Floaty! If that! This has never happened to me before, ever! Not even before! Not until sleeping with you.”

“What are you implying?”

“I dunno, Seonghwa, did  _ you  _ touch fairy dust?”

“No! It’s literally in your room, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I dunno. Maybe you’ve got some magic in… With your…” He gestures vaguely to the other’s body.

“Oh, right, yeah. My  _ magical dick _ made this happen.”

“I mean, scientifically it is the only new variable entering this equation.”

“Yeah, I’m sure this has a scientific explanation.”

Joong groans,“Look- It doesn’t even matter why this happened. I just- How do we get down?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. Why don’t we ask the fairies- oh wait, there are none. Because we are not in Neverland, we are in my  _ dorm room _ and I-” Their bodies suddenly lurch down toward the ground, and Hwa’s heart drops. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong replies, equally as terrified.

Gravity yanks them down again, and Seonghwa gets the distinct feeling that nothing good is about to come.

Suddenly, the laws of physics resume their tyrannical hold over the two. The couple screams as they fall back down toward the bed. The two cement themselves to one another, twisting and turning until it’s finally Seonghwa who ends in the unfortunate position of first to hit the bed.

“Oh- Fff-” Seonghwa grimaces as he tries to recover from the air getting knocked out from his lungs. God, it hurts, and the dorm issued mattresses do not make for a soft landing. “Ffffffff-”

“Th-thanks for breaking my landing,” Hongjoong responds sheepishly, on top of the other.

Seonghwa can’t really speak, so he just gives a weak thumbs up instead. Hongjoong courteously slides off of the other, rubbing soothing circles in his stomach until he’s finally regains the ability to breathe again.

“This mattress fucking sucks,” Hwa wheezes out.

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Hongjoong says again with a giggle. He presses a kiss on Hwa’s cheek. 

The two just lay there for a few minutes in silence, letting their bodies recoup. Joong cuddles up close to Hwa, throwing an arm over the other’s torso loosely. He presses a few more chaste kisses on the blond’s cheek before whispering to him.

“I really don’t know what happened, Hwa,” Hongjoong says. “You gotta believe me.”

“I know,” Seonghwa murmurs back. 

“I just- I… Never in a million years did I think I would fly again, or- well, whatever that was.”

Hwa slides an arm out from under the other and wraps it around the slender redhead’s shoulder. He squeezes affectionately, pressing a kiss on top of the other’s head.

“Can’t say I thought about it, either.”

“I just- I never- I-” Joong worries at his lip.

“Hey,” Seonghwa says more assuredly, “Were you thinking about anything special when we were kissing?”

“Hm?”

“Like, what was on your mind?”

“Why?”

“I dunno, I mean- I barely remember flying, but I remember when I did I just… I thought about it. Believed I could - and it worked.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “No, I was just… Happy to be with you. Relieved I could be intimate with you. It’s still kinda hard to believe.”

“Oh,” Hwa’s heart grows three sizes from hearing the words. “C’mere.” He doesn’t really have a good answer to that. He feels like at this point what’s said has been said enough in the past twenty-four hours. Instead of talking, he just hugs the other close and kisses the top of his head.

The sensation of floating still nags him. It lingers under his skin, persisting like the sensation of being underwater does hours after a swim. It stays there, occasionally pulling his skin up into the air as they kiss and even past when hunger eventually rouses them from bed.

He can’t help wondering, is it possible to go to that place again?

* * *

**Hongjoong💖** : how much longer are we obligated to be here

Seonghwa snorts at the notification on his phone. Hongjoong is just across the room, but given how loud the music is plus how many people there are, texting is genuinely easier than trying to wade through the ocean of bodies. The couple somehow managed to find themselves in the middle of some obscure friend of a friend’s house party. Hwa blames Yunho - the damn puppy dog eyes hold within them immense powers of persuasion. He practically begged the entire friend group to go, mentioning some obligation to be present because it’s somebody’s birthday.

(You): we haven’t even said hi to all the guys yet lmao

**Hongjoong💖** : we alrdy said hi to yunho and woo and mingi

**Hongjoong💖** : isnt that everybody

  
(You): no hongjoong its not

(You): you know this

(You): i know parties arent ur thing but its like not even 12 are u sleepy or something

**Hongjoong💖** : 🤔

(You): ??

Platinum blond hair flashes across Hwa’s peripheral vision, pulling his attention from his phone. Though the form is fleeting, he can make out the unmistakeable blond hair and broad shoulders of Choi San. His brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting San.

  
Ever since his unfortunate text thing, both San and Mingi have been quiet - something that is terrifyingly out of character for both of them. Hwa can’t help feeling guilty, but no amount of prodding from anyone has yielded anything. At first, the two were sort of mum. After a week and a half or so, they’d show up to stuff - a movie night at Wooyoung’s or a study session at the library. But it would only be one or the other, never both. Hwa wonders how the hell the two got so coordinated; it’s like they split custody of the friend group or something. No matter what he asked, implied, or said, Hwa never got anything other than “I’m fine” or “he’s probably just busy” out of either of the two.

He messages Hongjoong:

(You): i think i just saw san

**Hongjoong💖** : for real??

**Hongjoong💖** : omg

**Hongjoong💖** : been a minute since those 2 have come to the same thing o_o

(You): yea…

Hwa has yet to mention his little outburst. He hopes there’s some logical explanation for their weirdness that isn’t his fault. Of course, if it  _ is _ , he’s prepared to take responsibility. But it’d be great if it wasn’t. Seonghwa is just barely buzzed enough to decide that hunting the two down to apologize is a good idea. He texts Hongjoong, hoping his adorable boyfriend might soften the blow of any curses thrown at him.

(You): i think i saw him going by the kitchen. Lets go say hi ^^

**Hongjoong💖** : yeaaa

Joong bids farewell to the fashion club member he’d been half-chatting with and joins Hwa’s side. The two skirt around the edge of the room they’re in, nearly getting showered with cheap beer from nearby pong players. They eventually manage to squeeze into a kitchen - not an easy feat since it’s the center of not only the food but the booze as well. 

“Hwa!” A familiar voice calls out behind them.

  
The blond’s brows raise, “Yeosang! What’s up?”

“Hey Hwa, hi Joong,” The brunette tips his red plastic cup. “You guys having a good night?”

“Oh, you know, it’s…”

“You’re here because of the puppy dog eyes, aren’t you?” Yeo smirks.

Hwa shrugs in defeat, “He has a way about him.”

“Yup,” The brunette nods and takes a long gulp from his cup. He winces, recoiling slightly from whatever witch’s brew he’d poured into the cup. “Oh god, that’s terrible.”

The redhead giggles, “Then why are you drinking it?”

“I need to get drunk enough to enjoy this,” Yeosang gestures vaguely to the drunken chaos unfolding around them. “What about you two? Having a grand time here at the frat chateau?”

“Oh, uh,” Seonghwa sideeyes Hongjoong, “I think we’re leaving soon, actually.”

“What? You’re gonna leave me here?”

“There are, like, six more of us, you know.”

“Hwa, you’re my sane buddy. I miss those days. You and me against the rest of the crazy world. Being normal, reasonable humans while Mingi got his hand stuck in pickle jars or Yunho broke a bed frame trying to do a handstand. Remember those times?” Yeo pouts, “Then you had to come along-” He playfully jabs at Hongjoong, “-and steal the only other normal one left.”

The redhead giggles, “Sorry,” He replies, completely unapologetic.

“C’mon, man. What do you need him for, anyway? You’re a virgin, what do you two do when you leave early, play chess?”

“Wh- I’m not a virgin anym-mmm-” Joong’s lips snap shut, but it’s too late.

Yeosang’s jaw drops, and a huge, shit-eating grin stretches across his face, “Oh my god.”

“I-” Hongjoong’s face reddens to match his hair, and he hides it in Hwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa feels his face heating up, too. He just wanted to talk to a friend, but now he’s afraid he’s gonna have to prepare to protect Hongjoong’s honor or something.

“I knew it,” Yeosang laughs. “I  _ knew  _ it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Oh my god- yes!” He practically shouts.

“Yeo, for a self-proclaimed ‘normal person’ you’re not acting normal right now,” Hwa replies dryly.

“No, shut up! I was telling everyone he-” Yeo points at Hongjoong, “-was acting different- that  _ you  _ were acthing different, but they were like ‘no, Yeosang, you’re wrong he’s probably waiting until marriage’. Ha! Oh my god-” Suddenly, he throws his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “-everyone needs to know this.”

“Wh- Yeosang, no!” Seonghwa yells, reaching for the other’s phone. Yeo turns his body away, throwing his hips back to bump the other away. Hwa searches his brain desperately for some misdirection tactic - anything bar assault - that’ll stop the jackass from texting their entire friend group about his private life. “Wait- Yeo- Did you see San and Mingi?!” He cries almost desperately. He figures if anything can distract the other from shouting about his private life, it’d be gossip that’s even more mysterious.

Yeo stops what he’s doing, and he raises his brows, “Oh, I actually did.” His phone ends up back in his pocket, much to Hwa’s relief. He follows up, “Yeah, I was really surprised to see them talking.”

“Wait, they were talking?” Hwa’s brows knit together. “Did they seem… Okay?”

Yeosang shrugs, “Yeah they were fine. I dunno, not as overtly bantery as normal, but, like San just got here and I couldn’t see much. They were, like, across the room.”

“You think they’re all good? Like- Have we been exaggerating this in our heads?”

The brunette contemplates the question for a second before shaking his head, “No, I don’t think it was exaggeration on our parts. There was definitely something strange about it. Like, they just don’t show up to the same thing for weeks? Didn’t add up.”

“Right, well… I was gonna say hi to San now, but, um, yeah. You didn’t hear anything?”

“No,” Yeo pouts. “Nobody tells me stuff.”

“Wonder why,” Hwa replies flatly. “Well, we’re gonna chase San down. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen him. Right, well, um, we might catch you in a bit on our way out.”

“On your way out to fuck,” Yeosang responds bluntly.

“ _ Bye _ , Yeosang,” Seonghwa half-hollers at the other as he quickly drags Hongjoong in the opposite direction.

“Have fun fucking! Congrats on deflowering the fairy prince!” Yeo waves like a damn pageant girl on a parade float.

“Don’t mind him,” Hwa tells Hongjoong as they continue working their way through the kitchen toward the back hallway.

“That was my bad,” Hongjoong chuckles embarrassedly. “My fat mouth.”

“It’s fine, babe,” Hwa shakes his head, face burning out of embarrassment. Usually he can rely on Yeo to be the other sane, normal human in any given situation. However, give him a little booze and he becomes a savage like the rest. “Wanna find the others so we can head out?” Hongjoong nods with a tiny grin, and Seonghwa leads him further back. Past the kitchen there’s a hallway leading to a sun room of sorts, bathrooms and some other random spaces converted to rec rooms. Hwa wonders why frat houses need so many extraneous rooms. He’s pretty sure there’s a basement, too, and he imagines its sole purpose outside of storage is hazing rituals.

“Oh, he went in there,” Joong points ahead of them to a door down the hall. Hwa just barely catches a glimpse of platinum blond hair disappearing behind a door.

“Thanks,” Hwa says to the other as they make their way to the end of the hall. They end up in front of a door donning a sign that says “LAUNDRY”. Seonghwa furrows his brow, wondering if he’d mistaken what he saw. However, he’s just buzzed enough not to give a shit and opens the door indiscriminately.

“Oh- Shit-” Seonghwa grimaces. It’s dark, but the light coming in through the hall is enough to grant vision of the important stuff. There’s a couple making out out - one sitting on top of the washer while the other stands in front of it. They seem very busy, and surely they’re not keen on being interrupted. “S-Sorry I- Holy  _ shit _ .”

His jaw drops. It’s not just a couple. It’s the couple. The couple of guys who’ve been avoiding one another for the past two weeks. Terror paralyzes Seonghwa as he watches the two attack one another’s face, completely and utterly dumbfounded. A few minutes pass with the door still open, and Mingi - from his perch on the washing machine - finally takes the time to detach from San.

The taller one glares at the invading couple, “Hey, do you  _ mind- _ oh.  _ Oh _ .” He chokes on the last few syllables.

“What is it?” San finally turns around, and his eyes go wide with terror. “S-Seonghwa. Hongjoong. Hey,” He waves awkwardly. The two exchange worried glances like they’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar before dinner.

“Well,” Seonghwa coughs out, “Glad to know you two are… On good terms. We were just gonna… Say hi before we headed out so um- hi. Bye.” 

“Hey.” “Hi.” San and Mingi talk over one another awkwardly.

Hwa turns on his heel, ready to drag Hongjoong away with him and forget he ever saw the pair brutalizing each other. Sure, he’d always rooted for them, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to be there to witness it.

“W-Wait,” San reaches out and grabs Seonghwa by the shoulder. He presses his lips together hesitantly before speaking again, this time in a lower voice. “Can you keep this quiet, please?” He rocks back and forth on his heels, and his fingers fidget awkwardly. He’s nervous - something that almost never happens to San. If it does, he sure as hell doesn’t show it ever.

Hwa’s brows raise in surprise, “Why? I- I mean, sure. Course I will. I’m just… Surprised as all. Can I ask how long this has been, like, a thing?”

“Like- like twoish weeks or something. I dunno- When did we hook up?” San asks Mingi.

The taller one shrugs, “Iunno. When did Hwa send that insensitive text?”

“I- I’m sorry, I was joking-”

“No you weren’t!” The other two shout at once.

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, “You sent them a what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Seonghwa barks out. “But, um, so you two, you’re like a…?” He waits for them to fill in the blanks.

San shrugs, “We’re kind of figuring it out. That’s why we haven’t told anyone. W didn’t wanna be all loud and obnoxious about it then, like, I dunno, break up or something a week later. So, please, I’m serious, be quiet. Last thing we need is half a dozen unsolicited opinions making stuff harder.”

“Right,” Seonghwa nods obligingly. “Okay. Well, I don’t care as long as you two are happy and stuff. We’ll keep quiet.”

“Thank you. God- Thank god it’s you and not Yeosang.”

Hwa laughs at that, “Yeah, no problem. You two kids stay safe now.” He jokes. “We’re gonna go-”

Mingi waves, “Yeah, you’re gonna go out to fuck, seeya!”

Seonghwa stumbles as he steps out, and Joong has to catch him,“Wh-”

“Oh, Yeo texted us!” Mingi smiles and waves his phone.

  
“Great,” Seonghwa says facetiously. “We’ll just leave you two to your laundry then.” 

San smirks, shouting, “Congrats on fucki-” 

Seonghwa slams the door shut behind them before the other can finish his tawdry compliment. Hongjoong just giggles. The blond turns to his boyfriend to apologize yet again on behalf of the others, but a sudden force yanks him aside.

“Need to borrow him for five seconds over here!” Jongho, coming out of nowhere, shouts at Hongjoong. The redhead watches with wide eyes as Hwa gets dragged away halfway across the hall.

“What the fuck?” Seonghwa asks. He’s starting to get irritated, the desire to go home stronger and stronger by the passing minute.

“Okay, okay you gotta promise me something,” Jongho’s eyes dart to Hongjoong constantly, as if afraid he can hear halfway down the hall at the loud ass party. It’s weird. Ho is finnicky, visibly anxious. The usually unshakeable, phlegmatic youngest seems to be wrestling with something.

“What is it?” Seonghwa’s irritation lessens. He’s starting to get worried. First San and Mingi, now Jongho acting weird? He wonders if he’d been neglecting his friends in favor of Joong for too long. Everyone’s acting strange, and he barely even noticed. Then again, there is a lot of alcohol going around. It could just be that. He hears Jongho out.

“Hwa, you can’t tell him any of this, okay?”

“Tell  _ who _ this?”

“ _ Him _ ,” Jongho replies nervously, nodding toward Hongjoong.

“Hongjoong?” What did he do? “What about him?”

“This is gonna sound crazy- can you please promise me you won’t call me crazy?”

“I- Uh- Sure, but what’s got you so…” He gestures vaguely at the other. “Jongho, are you okay? Wait- Did someone give you something?”

“I’ve had, like, a drink. Just a canned beer, nothing mixed in, okay? Look- This- this isn’t the alcohol talking this has been bothering me for awhile now.”

“O-Okay. Dude, out with it already.”

“You promise you-”

“Jongho just spill. I promise I won’t call you crazy.”

“Fine. Okay, okay,” Jongho lets out a shaky sigh. His gaze falls on Hongjoong as he speaks, “The truth is… I’ve always gotten vibes about him, y’know. Not just me, either, a couple of the others said they did, too.”

“Vibes? Wh- You guys don’t like him? Nobody ever told me-”

“No, no not like that kinda vibes like… It’s weird. Like deja vu, y’know? Almost like-”

“Like you knew him before?”

“Like I’ve known him for years. Or I knew him years ago- like a childhood friend. Is that- is that strange?”

“Did you ever ask him about it?” Seonghwa inquires. “Maybe you lived near him or something.”

“No, it’s not that. I asked him where he went to school and stuff. It’s not that. I just… It wasn’t a big deal, but recently it’s like- I just I swear I know this guy from somewhere. Did you- like- Did he ever seem familiar to you like that?”

Seonghwa presses his lips together. This sounds like what he’d experienced, but how could Jongho be experiencing it, too? That sense of deja vu, the unidentifiable familiarity?

“You could say that,” Seonghwa responds. He watches his redheaded boyfriend chat politely with a drunk girl who appears to be complimenting his outfit.

Something else that Jongho said bothers Hwa.

“Others have felt the same way?” Hwa asks the youngest.

“Yeah. San. Yeosang. Yunho. I mean it was all just… In passing like ‘oh doesn’t it seem like we’ve known him for years’ or ‘wow it’s like talking to an old friend’. I- I dunno. Yeo swore up and down one day he’d seen Hongjoong before, even though he just transferred I just- I dunno.”

“So, why now? Like- Why approach me now? Has this really been bothering you for months?”

“I thought it’d go away, but, weirdly enough it’s just getting, like stronger. It’s like a blurry picture, I like know what I’m supposed to see, but I can’t. Okay, I- I should see a doctor, I do sound crazy.”

“No, no, not at all I’d just say…” Hwa bites his lip, “Just- just releax a bit, okay? And… And you should trust yourself. Don’t just assume you’re crazy because you’ve got a gut feeling about something. Have a little faith.”

“I- Okay. Okay, yeah. So, what, should I tell him or something?”

“Well, I bet talking directly to him would be more productive in resolving the issue than talking to me. But, I get it. It’s kind of an… Illogical thing and you’re pretty rational, so it’s not easy to accept.”

“I- Yeah, yeah, right,” Jongho nods, but his expression says clearly he doesn’t really comprehend.

Hwa tries to make it easier, “Dude, just relax, okay? Enjoy the party, and if this keeps really bothering you, try to sort it out with him.”

“Right. Yeah that’s- you’re right. I shouldn’t worry about this it’s- it’s strange.”

“Yeah, just have fun.”

“Okay. Thanks, Hwa,” Jongho gives the other a grateful smile.

“No problem,” Seonghwa smiles back. “We’re probably gonna head out, so-”

“Oh, yeah! Congrats on fucking him,” The younger flashes a dorky thumbs up.

“I- Thank you,” Hwa responds through gritted teeth.

“Be safe!” Jongho calls after Seonghwa as he walks away. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Seonghwa flashes the other the finger before rejoining his boyfriend’s side.

“What was that about?” Hongjoong asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Seonghwa sighs. “Just boy talk.”

Jongho’s words toss around in Seonghwa’s head as they make their way back to the front door and out onto the street. He shakes his head. Maybe one day, they'll tell him.

* * *

Peachy pink tones recede into the horizon, gradually being snuffed out by shades of azure and midnight. Though the sun still stubbornly clings to the edge of the earth, no doubt its amber rays will be gone in minutes. The moon’s already taken its spot in the sky, gleaming a bright silver. Stars begin pocking the night sky, just a few here and there so far. The air has a chill, but the warmth of the breeze tells of the summer to soon to come.

“It’s nice up here,” Hongjoong says dreamily, eyes not leaving the sky.

Seonghwa smiles at the other. He swears he can see the very same stars from the sky in Hongjoong’s wide-eyed gaze. Hwa managed to sneak onto the roof and set up a little picnic for them - wine, blanket, cushions and all. It turned out that the older locks on their building didn’t so much lock as they did make it harder to open doors. The school had renovated most of the dorms relatively recently, but apparently they didn’t think anyone would shake the old doorknob to the top door too hard. It worked out splendidly in his favor, of course. 

“You’re not too cold?” Seonghwa asks.

“Nah,” Joong wraps his blanket more tightly around his shoulders. He looks so little swaddled in the puffy throw. “Just come here already.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Hwa chuckles. Being the gentleman he is, he’d taken it upon himself to open the wine. “Here-“ The blond carefully nestles himself under the blanket with the other, extending him a glass.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong leans his head on Hwa’s shoulder. He fingers the plastic cup Hwa’d poured wine into and bounces his leg. “Hey! You, um, you’re an astronomy major, aren’t you?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell me about the stars.”

“Just in general or-”

“Don’t be a smartass! You know what I mean,” Joong points up to the sky, “Those stars. Like, what are they? Which ones are looking down at us now?”

“Well, do you know that one?” Hwa asks, pointing to the brightest one in the sky.

“Of course I know polaris, the north star,” Hongjoong huffs out. It’s clear he’s nervous, forcing conversation for the sake of it. “Part of ursa major- right?”

“Yep,” Hwa indulges the other. “Ursa major, the big dipper, also known as the great bear. They say that the southern asterism of the constellation is known as ‘the three leaps of the gazelle’ - they’re, like, the bears paws to most people. The gazelle’s leaps are an arabic asterism, I think. They said that the gazelle was startled by a lion’s tail and leapt out of the pond.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

“Is it? Or are you just telling me it is?”

“It is! I mean, the stars are beautiful, but I kinda find it more interesting what people have to say about them, you know?”

“Really? What do you mean?”

“Like, we all look up at the same sky, but some of us see bears, and some - apparently - see gazelles.”

“Ah,” Hwa nods. “I guess you’re right. Of course, it’s all based on lore written, like, thousands of years ago. I wonder what people would see today if we decided to identify star clusters?”

“Well,” Hongjoong smirks and points to a star cluster to the south, “That line of stars there is a text left on read.”

Seonghwa laughs, “Oh god-”

“And that one-” Joong points to another random cluster to the west, “-is called The Lady of Brunch.”

“Okay, okay,” The blond titters. He eyes the darkening sky, watching more stars timidly emerge from beneath the diminishing veil of light. A particularly brilliant one glimmers just east of the moon. It twinkles in a gold hue, almost demanding attention with its luminesence. The stars around it almost shy in its presence, purposefully receding to give it and it alone all of the attention of onlookers. All save for one, that is. Though not nearly as boisterous, another star shines next to the shimmering one, clear and stark silver against the dark azure of the sky.

Seonghwa’s head tilts in wonder, and he points to the sparkling golden star just a couple east of the moon, “What about that one?”

“Hm?”

“What do you call that star?” Hwa watches the other turn to look.

Hongjoong’s joking grin falters, and he swallows nervously, “I- I dunno.”

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks softly.

“Hwa, I- No,” Joong bites his lip worriedly and shakes his head. “It’s just- Is that why you brought me here? To- to-”

“I brought you here to look at the stars,” Hwa reassures the other. He sets down his wine so he’s got free hands to cup the other’s face. “But, it did cross my mind that if we just so happened to…”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Hongjoong cuts the other off, a bundle of nerves.

“Hongjoong-”

“What if we don’t fly again or- or if people see us? What if air traffic control catches us? What if we float up and get shot by drones?!”

Hwa snorts at that, “Drones?”

“Shut up!” Joong smacks the other, “You know what I mean! A human can’t just fly. There are consequences.”

“Not with that attitude you can’t.”

“ _ Seonghwa- _ ”

“ _ Hongjoong _ . I’m serious.”

“Why? I- I told you I don’t need that place anymore? I chose this world. I chose you.”

“Look,” The blond rubs soothing circles in the other’s cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t some determined do or die mission. It’s just a… If it happens, it happens kind of thing.”

“But-”

“I want this for you. Even if it’s just to say a proper goodbye. I mean, worst case scenario, we get a romantic evening on the roof.”

“I- I guess. I just… I- I dunno.”

“I think you do know.”

The redhead heaves a sigh, “I’m just afraid this is setting me up for disappointment. I spent so much time looking for it, and I never, ever found it.”

“Hey, don’t put so much pressure on yourself, okay?” Hwa plants a kiss on the other’s forehead and cuddles him closer. “Just calm down, kiss me and believe. Believe in magic. Believe in us. That’s what you always told me, right?”

“Don’t remember the kissing part,” Hongjoong jokes.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “Do you always have to be such a smartass?”

“Yes- mm-” Hongjoong starts being snarky, but Hwa cuts him off with a kiss on the lips. The redhead sinks into it quickly, wrapping his arms around Hwa’s neck and pulling him close. He puts so much into the kiss, affection, want, worry and heartbreak. Joong throws himself into it, and Seonghwa is more than ready to catch him. Hongjoong calms down as the two meld to one another.

“I hate you,” Hongjoong whispers between kisses. He tucks his head in the crook of Hwa’s neck.   
  


“Wh- Why?”

“Because. You’re always right,” Joong pouts.

“I’m not always right. Just  _ most _ of the time,” Hwa chuckles. “Though I dunno why you’re bringing this up now.”

“I just- it’s not fair. You’re so calm and collected all the time. Even now about the-” Joong’s eyes dart to the stars briefly. “-I mean, you’re right. We should just not even worry about it.”

“I’m glad I’ve managed to con you into thinking I’m calm and collected,” Seonghwa replies with a grin. “Because I am not.”

“Compared to me?”

“I’m just a good actor. Trust me, it’s not easy acting cool around you of all people.”

“Whoa, don’t put words in my mouth,” Joong smirks. “I did not say ‘cool’. Make no mistake, you’re like one of the lamest humans on this planet.”

“You  _ know _ . I was gonna be all romantic and tell you how nervous you make me, but nah,” Seonghwa jokingly turns away.

“Ugh- are you serious?”

“No, I’m lame, remember. Your words,” The blond feigns offense.

“Wh- You didn’t let me finish, okay!” Hongjoong laughs. “I love lame. I  _ love _ the way you tell me my room is dirty the second you walk in without looking. And I find it  _ very _ endearing when you fall asleep at eight o’ clock watching ASMR videos.”

“I’m flattered,” Seonghwa responds dryly.

“I know you think I’m dragging you, but I’m serious! I love everything about you. I wouldn’t change a thing,” Hongjoong says sincerely. Seonghwa stubbornly keeps his exaggerated pout on his face even though is resolve is crumbling.

“Nothing?” Hwa prods the other. “Not one thing?”

“Well,” Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa’s hair, flicking a swooping lock, “Maybe one thing.”

“Oh my god.”

“Your roots are showing, you know,” The redhead waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “You could just, I dunno, go natural.”

“Love that caveat to your unconditional love.”

“It’s just a suggestion.”

“Wh- What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with not red hair?”

“What?” Hongjoong gasps, dramatically affronted, “It’s my  _ brand _ .”

“You could always rebrand.”

“Wh- I- Wh- And have what?”

“You like dark hair so much, why don’t you get it?”

“I looked like a fuckin dweeb with dark hair.”

“You do not.”

“How would you know? You’ve never seen it!”

“Well, there’s your high school pictures.”

“Don’t you dare bring those up!”

“You don’t look… Bad.”

“Wow.”

“Babe-”

“Yeah, no. If anything I’d go lighter. Like a dusty rose or something,” Joong muses.

“That’d look cute. Then again, I guess, like, anything would look good on you.”

“ _ That _ is the correct answer,” Hongjoong grins. “I mean, of course I’d love you no matter what. But if you had black hair, well- it’s probably good you don’t. I don’t think I’d be able to help myself.”

“Stop.”

“It’d be bad for productivity.”

“You literally-” Hwa snorts, “You’re ridiculous. Where did this come from? You used to be such a good boy, what happened?!”

“You happened!”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. I mean, not to sound dramatic, but it’s entirely your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yup. Like you said, I was a good boy. Then you came along and corrupted me.”

“Oh my god.”

“Seduced me.”

“Okay.”

“Lured me to the dark si- mm- hey!” Joong bats at Hwa who’d smothered him with a kiss for a second. “Stop that! You can’t shut me up for- for…” Seonghwa does it again shamelessly. “Stop!” Joong shoves Hwa away. “When are you gonna stop trying to shut me up with your face?”

Seonghwa smirks,“When it stops worki-mm-” Hongjoong gets his revenge, sneaking up on the other with a rough tug of the collar and smothering his words beneath his own lips.

“You know what,” Joong says when he separates. “It actually works pretty good. No wonder you do it all the time.”

“Yeah it’s a real boon being able to shut you up. Of course, that’s just a pleasant bonus…” Seonghwa trails off, favoring making out over conversation. Joong grins into the kiss as the two meld into one another with an almost carefree ease. 

The blond wraps his boyfriend up in his arms tightly as they delve deeper into their affections. Warmth surrounds them, and a dizzying pleasure fills Seonghwa’s head. When their lips aren’t locked, Hwa nuzzles the other’s cheek and neck, planting little kisses along the feverish skin. Hongjoong sighs contently, more than happy to receive the almost excessive outpouring of affection. Hwa muses about how perhaps that’s why they match so well. Seonghwa has a wealth of tender affection to give, and Hongjoong adores soaking it all up and returning it in his own way.

Nothing lasts forever, just like Hongjoong said, like many have said before him and will say moving forward. Seonghwa imagines that, as much as he loathes the thought, one day perhaps they’ll tire of this; their relentless fondness for one another, the bordering exorbitant declarations and physical affections. Perhaps, as Joong feared, they’ll wear out the phrase “I love you” completely.

However, that day is not today or tomorrow. And Seonghwa will be damned if it’s the day after that, either. He pours every ounce of care and love into his every gesture - the tightness with which he squeezes the other, like if he lets go, he’ll fly away, the gentle nudge of his nose against the other’s cheek, asking for attention. He puts everything because one day that everything will expire or dwindle, so why not give it his all now? The other returns his fervor, his want, disregarding fears and disallowing doubt. Though the future is uncertain, they are the now.

The feeling flurries in Seonghwa’s gut and blossoms across his chest. It extends through his veins to every last extremity and nerve ending he has. It’s a sort of flitting, glimmering thing, a fleeting sensation that’s some combination of want, need, optimism and - of course - love. A pleasant fog clouds the blond’s head as the two savor the other’s presence. He feels light, like he’s floating. His heart pitter patters - part nerves, part excitement.

Slowly, Seonghwa detaches from the other and whispers, “Hongjoong, look down.”

The redhead blinks confusedly. He obliges the other and gazes beneath them. His eyes blow wide open with alarm and, much like he did before, he clings to the blond with a vice, wrapping his entire body around the other.

“Wh- Wh-“ Joong stutters, choking on his words.

“Settle down, I’ve got you,” Seonghwa reassures him. The irony of him being the calmer of the two isn’t lost on him.

“B- Bu- What if- if somebody sees-“

“Nobody’s gonna see us,” Hwa says calmly. In truth, the anxious thought gnaws at the back of his head, too, but between the two of them, he figures he ought to be the optimistic one.

“But- How- Why-?”

“Because I believe it,” Seonghwa replies confidently. That’s the key, right? He tells himself: if he believes in magic, if he believes in flying, then he sure as hell can believe that nobody’s going to spot them.

“O-Okay,” Hongjoong nods, coming down from the peak of his stress. “Okay, right, um- Oh my god we’re- we’re airborne.”

“We are.”

“We’re- we’re really up- up here.”

“Yup,” Seonghwa gives the other a soft smile. Flying’s a bit rusty to him, but he rides the high of giddiness and magic that seems to be surging through his veins and takes them higher. It always stemmed from belief, he thinks. He ponders if that’s why he was never as good a flyer as Hongjoong. There was always the tiniest sliver of doubt weighing him down. Without that shackle, could he have soared to heights beyond his imagination? Hwa supposes he could test the theory now, but first, he has to remind Hongjoong that he’s the teacher, not the student.

The blond chuckles warmly, “I don’t mind you holding me, but I don’t think you need to use your legs, too.”

“Wh- O-Oh,” Hongjoong sputters sheepishly. He hesitantly peels his legs off of Seonghwa’s waist one at a time, gripping the blond’s shirt tighter as they drop. 

“C’mon, don’t you remember how to do this?” Hwa chides the other jokingly. “You used to school me in flying.”

“And I still could!” Hongjoong takes the bait readily. “Just… Just gimme a minute.” Slowly, his grip on Seonghwa slackens, and he backs away slightly.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Seonghwa asks. The buildings and people beneath them shrink more and more with each passing second of their ascent. From where they are, the cars look like mere toys and the people bugs. Lights twinkle across the campus and the city around it, street lamps and shop signs switching on for the nighttime. In the distance, Hwa can see the urban sprawl feter out, receding until large splotches of trees overpower the buildings.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong replies, infinitely more relaxed. “Yeah it is.” He unwraps his arms from around Hwa’s neck and decides to hold the other’s hand instead. Joong’s knuckles are still white - and he shivers a bit - but he braves it regardless.

The redhead goes quiet for a few minutes. Seonghwa gives the other some time for it all to sink in. He needs a minute, too, but in honesty he’s more concerned with the other than the fact that they’re somehow magically flying in the sky hundreds of feet up in the air. When Hwa turns to check on the other, his eyes are wet.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa braves floating closer to the other. It happens quickly, the motion in the air surprisingly smooth and natural. He brings a hand up to cup the other’s face and swipes a tear off of his cheek.

Hongjoong’s lip quivers when he responds, “Y-Yeah.” His voice is barely a squeak. “I- I jus- I didn’t think I- I didn’t think-“ He sniffs loudly, unable to tear his eyes off of the twinkling lights below. “N-Never thought that I’d-“ Hongjoong can’t finish the sentence. Instead, he tugs Hwa by the collar and buries his face in the blond’s chest. Seonghwa rubs soothing circles on Joong’s back until he’s overcome the brunt of his forceful sobs.

“Hey,” Hwa tries to rouse the other softly. When Hongjoong lifts his head, his eyes are still wet and his cheeks are ruddy. Still, at the very least he’s done sobbing, reduced to quiet sniffles instead.

“Y-Yeah?” Hongjoong cries.

“You still remember the way, don’t you?” Seonghwa asks.

“Course I do, dummy. How could I forget. The second star to the right.”

“Shines in the night for you- I remember there was a rhyme.”

“Damn, look at you, remembering all the things about Neverland,” Hongjoong lets out a low laugh. He smiles softly. 

“Well,” Hwa nods up to the sky, to the golden, glimmering star up above. “Wanna give it a try?”

Joong swallows nervously but nods in affirmation, “Might as well, right?”

“I mean, do you believe? Do you really believe in it? Because if you don’t-“

“Seonghwa, at this point I genuinely believe  _ anything _ can happen. I’m with you. I can do anything.”

“Lead the way,” Seonghwa invites the other and tries to ignore the heart-melting implication of the comment.

Hongjoong takes a few deep breaths to steel himself. When he’s just about fortified his will, he leads Seonghwa by the hand.

Hwa doesn’t really take in any of their surroundings. All he can see is Hongjoong, flying above him, guiding him. Moonlight kisses the redhead’s silhouette, outlining him in silver light. The further they fly, the more Hongjoong relaxes. Tension leaves his body as they soar across the night sky. 

Seonghwa doesn’t quite process the passage of time. It feels like they’re only in the sky for minutes when the air suddenly warms. The familiar scent of salt and sea floats up into Hwa’s nose, prompting him to glance below. He gasps in shock.

“Holy shit,” The blond mutters dumbly.

Beneath them there’s no sign of their dorm, their university, their city - not even their country. In the distance, the shoreline of an island crops out against the dark sea. Even though it’s dark out, the place is unmistakeable.

It’s Neverland.

“It’s still here,” Hongjoong says, slowing down. He presses his lips together apprehensively and raises his brows at Hwa, “D’you think you can do without my hand?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa glances at their interlaced fingers. He shrugs, “I- I’m pretty sure I can float by myself.” He dubiously unlaces his fingers from the other’s, worry spiking in his chest as he stalls out letting go. However, he quickly learns his stress is for naught. When he’s got his hand back, he’s still floating all the same. “Why?” He asks the other.

A massive grin stretches across the other’s lips, “So you can race me!” Without warning, Hongjoong shoots off toward the beach, yelling behind him, “First one to the sand wins.”

“Wh-“ Seonghwa doesn’t even get a second to comprehend him. Though, yes, a part of him does want to entertain the persistant skepticism and concern regarding his personal safety, the more overwhelming part of him is just annoyed that Joong got a head start. “No fair!” Seonghwa shouts after the other. He doesn’t dwell on any of the usual rational drivel that would weigh him down and instead focuses on flying as fast as possible.

“Hey, not bad!” Joong laughs over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna beat you this time,” Seonghwa chases the other, just at the redhead’s toes. The two twist and turn, trying to one-up each other, trails of sparkles twirling in their wake. 

“Yeah, right!” The redhead laughs. For being the one who’d been so nervous and reluctant, he certainly has regained his wings. Hongjoong glides across the sky without a care in the world. Though he’s excited, there’s a serenity about him. As the two fly onward, Joong feels more and more at home - Hwa can see it. A bittersweet smile rests on the redhead’s face as he nears the shoreline of his own home. Seonghwa, contrastingly, finds himself transfixed by the one flying just an arm’s reach away. Yes, Hongjoong’s beauty is part of it, but the overwhelming majority of Seonghwa’s wonder is about the other’s state of mind. What’s going through Hongjoong’s head right now? Clearly, he’s happy, but for what? Is he nostalgic? Overwhelmed? Just happy to fly?

In seconds, the pair finds themselves just above shore. Hongjoong - always the more adept flyer - proves himself to be just as proficient as he was. The redhead agilely turns his body at the very last second, sliding to a halt at the treeline. Seonghwa reaches him seconds later, his own maneuvering slightly less graceful. He didn’t face plant into a tree, and in that moment, he’s satisfied with that. It’s been a while.

“Told you,” Hongjoong grins smugly, lowering himself onto the ground with ease. “You can’t beat me.”

“Guess not,” Hwa breathes out as he joins the other. “How’s it feel?”

“What? Beating you? It’s familiar,” The redhead snarks.

“I meant, like, being here,” Seonghwa searches the other’s face.

Joong’s surly, sassy exterior falters slightly, “Oh.” Even though he worries at his lip anxiously, his mouth upturns at the edges. “It’s… Iunno. I- I don’t know.” He bounces from one foot to the other.

“I mean- good? Bad?”

“Good,” Hongjoong nods. “Definitely good, I- I just-” He shrugs, letting out a nervous laugh. “I never thought I’d be here again I-” He wrings a hand through his red hair, “I don’t know. I just-” Suddenly, the smaller of the two barrels into Seonghwa. The blond nearly falls onto the sand, just barely managing to catch the other on time.

Joong squeezes Seonghwa tightly, muttering into his chest, “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-” He just repeats the phrase over and over again.

It makes Seonghwa’s heart ache in an excrutiating yet vindicating way. He returns the other’s embrace and holds him close. He could stay like this forever, but he figures they ought to get a move on. They’ve got some ground to cover. After all, they didn’t fly all this way just to stand on the beach.

“C’mon,” Seonghwa encourages the other softly. “Let’s see if we can find our old spots. We can do another round of our old stomping grounds. Our old hood.”

Hongjoong sniffs loudly, emerging from the other’s chest with wet eyes and a massive smile, “I can’t believe you just called Neverland our hood. You’re so lame.”

“I love you, too.”

“No, seriously, how do you live with yourself?” Hongjoong simpers.

“I’ve got a boyfriend that keeps me in check.”

“I- I hate that you’re so good with words sometimes.”

  
“I might be good with words, but I’m not great with directions so-” Seonghwa grabs the other’s hand, “Lead the way?”

“Well, this is my old home. It’s only polite that I give you the tour,” Hongjoong says with a smile.

The redhead guides the blond through the woods. Though it’s nighttime, the moon gleams brilliantly, almost rivalling the sun with its luminesence. Its light beams down brightly through the forest canopy, lighting their way with rays of silver. The forest is incredibly quiet - surprisingly so. Save for the rustle of leaves in the wind, it’s completely quiet. There are no bull frogs, bats or birds - not even a cricket chirps in the night. 

Hongjoong flies them toward the side of the mountain first, where the waterfalls cascade into the mermaid’s gorge. Seonghwa remembers the place - a forbidden valley through which the siren’s call echoed endlessly. However, that night there is no song to be heard. There is only the gurgling of river across the verdant canyon.

They fly through the forest, bobbing and weaving between trees until coming upon an abandoned campsite. A few teepees remain erect, eerily undisturbed as if completely unaffected by the elements. Signs of the tribe that once thrived in the forest remain: their homes, the ash in their fire pit, clay pots and hand chiseled axes, a single withered flower crown. Hongjoong makes a remark about, noting that they must’ve been nomadic the entire time. Seonghwa wonders about Tiger Lily, their princess, and the two laugh about the panic Joong had when he thought Hwa had a crush on her.

The fly high, high above and follow the shore looking out for any sign of pirates. They see the ship anchored off shore, hidden cleverly between a cluster of tall crags. However, it’s completely unmanned. They walk along the deck, and it hits Seonghwa that the ship felt so, so much bigger when he was younger. Now, the tall masts that seemed to tower over him feel easily scalable. The main deck that he thought was exhausting to cross is easily crossed in minutes. It strikes him as peculiar that the pirates somehow left without their ship. There’s no sign of remains or anything so gory; unless they threw themselves into the ocean, it’s unlikely they’re still present at all. Hwa doesn’t mention this, though. He doesn’t want to sidetrack the other from his nostalgia. While Seonghwa has good memories of Neverland, too, it’s really about Hongjoong. Neverland was  _ his _ home. Seonghwa was just lucky enough to be let into the other’s world of magic.

Finally, Hongjoong leads them to their old den. It’s so dark without the fire blazing. Even so, it’s unmistakeable. The logs are laid out around the fire pit all the same, and just beyond it is the hole leading to the hideout.

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong gasps, landing on the ground. “Oh my god…” His voice is thick. He slowly approaches the entrance to the den, ducking down slightly. “It’s smaller than I remember… It’s so dark, too.”

“Oh, uh- crap,” Seonghwa pats himself down. “I forgot my phone back on the roof. Shit.”

Hongjoong steps in apprehensively, almost completely disappearing in the dark, “Lemme feel around, see if I find a match…”

“Uh- Be careful in there!”

“I’m fine- oof-” A few soft thuds and clangs sound out from the hole. “Oh! Found a lantern! Sick!” An amber flicker ignites down in the hole, just barely making it to the surface. “Get in here, dummy!” Joong’s voice echoes from the den.

“O-Okay,” Hwa obliges, carefully hunching down as he descends the slope into the old hideout proper. 

Just like everywhere else they’d been, things are exactly the same. The apparent stasis is almost unsettling. The knick knacks sitting on the shelves haven’t budged even the tiniest bit, and they’re not even that dusty. Fairytales line the bookshelves along with small prizes from their treasure hunts and adventures - feathers, gold coins, little gemstones.

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong gasps, jaw dropped in awe. “It’s all here. Everything is still here.”

“Yeah. It really didn’t change a bit,” Seonghwa says with wonder.

Joong skips toward his old bed, hopping on enthusiastically. He chuckles as he tests the old mattress - god knows how worn it is now. Judging by his enthusiasm, it’s not too threadbare thankfully.

“Y’know, this placed seemed a lot roomier back in the day,” Hongjoong remarks.

Seonghwa chuckles, approaching the other’s bedside, “I dunno, the bed still seems big enough for you.”

“Shut up!” Hongjoong smacks the other halfheartedly. His gaze drifts just beyond Seonghwa to the barren bed cove next to his. “Y’know, that one was always for you.” He nods to the perfectly made bed.

“Yeah, I know. Knew it back then, too,” Seonghwa replies, glancing at it momentarily. 

“Of course, I could never get you to sleep over.”

“That’s not true. I slept over a couple of times.”

“Yeah, but when you did…” Hongjoong taps the bed next to him and chuckles.

“I had to make sure you were getting better!”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“Look, I told you that I had a big stupid crush on you. I mean…” Hongjoong raises his brows implicitly at the other. 

“ _ What _ ?”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t whipped for me.”

“Ugh- Wh- Why does it matter?!”

“Oh come on, Hwa. Like, did you have a crush on me back then, too?”

“I…”

“Don’t lie, either! Like, remember, I told you my dirty secrets.”

Seonghwa groans, “I- Okay, well, yeah I did, but-” He shrugs. “-I’m not sure I really understood it at the time. I think I so stubbornly held onto the idea that I just really enjoyed your friendship. I just didn’t want to go. Of course we know how that ended up going...” His eyes fall to the ground. It was so, so long ago, and they were in a place so far away from where they are now - not location-wise, of course. Still, the wound makes his guts twist a little.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls the other out of his somber recollection.

“Hm?”

“Hwa, don’t give me that look.”

“What look? I’m not giving you a look,” Seonghwa says, trying to wipe the frown off of his face.

“Babe,” Hongjoong scoots to the side of the bed and takes Seonghwa’s hands in in his own. He finds the blond’s gaze and bores into it with his own, “Seonghwa, I’m not gonna shut you out like that again.”

“Yeah I- I know,” Hwa lets out a wry laugh. “It’s just me being like, stupid and paranoid. Y’know since you’re home and everything I just can’t help thinking-”

“This isn’t my home.”

  
“Hongjoong, after all those years- I- I mean you don’t have to pretend,” Seonghwa sighs. “I- I see the look in your eyes. I can practically, like, feel the happiness radiating off of you. You’re happy to be here. Maybe… Maybe you do belong here.”

“Wh- Why are you saying that?”

“Joong, I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. With  _ you _ ,” Hongjoong asserts. He hops off the bed so he can be even closer to Seonghwa, his eyes dark and insistent in the flickering light of the lamp.

“Hongjoong you love it here. You feel safe here. I want that for you.”

“I  _ do _ love it here, and I do feel safe, but that doesn’t mean it’s my home,” Hongjoong says. “No. This isn’t my home anymore. My home is with you, beside  _ you _ . And I love that. I love you- and I love my adoptive parents. I love wifi and- and studying with you even though I feel like dying and riding the train and- and coffee shops and I just-” He takes a breath to reorient his thoughts, his eyes teary. “I love all of the craziness and complications that comes with living in that world, because it means that, for all the struggle I have to go through I appreciate every good thing that happens so much more. It means living in a world where I get to wake up next to you.”

Seonghwa blinks tears out of his eyes as he tries to come up with a response. He feels guilty for harboring those doubts after all they’ve been through. There’s an element of insecurity involved, along with petty resentment. But at this point, Hwa’s sure that Hongjoong has more than paid the price for his impulsive actions. It’s not as if he really deserved to pay anything. How can one blame a mere boy for holding onto their safe haven, their everything?

“I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean to distrust you,” Seonghwa’s response is little more than a whisper. “I just- It’s stupid, but I have this, like, paranoia that one day you’ll just fly away, I guess.”

“No,” Hongjoong shakes his head. “Sorry to inform you, but… You won’t get rid of me that easy.”

“No?” Seonghwa half laughs, half cries.

“Yeah, no. You’re stuck with me now. I’m your problem,” The redhead jokes through little cries.

“I… I thought you were Hongjoong.”

“God, I hate you  _ so _ much sometimes,” The redhead says through gritted teeth. “We can’t have a moment- not  _ one _ moment. Ugh!” He sniffs and smacks the other on the shoulder. Seonghwa breaks out into laughter, and it bounces loudly across the den.

“You know you love my dad jokes.”

“I do- ugh, I don’t know why though! Maybe it’s the daddy issues…”

“That would explain why you enjoy the spanking so much- ow!”

Hongjoong smacks Seonghwa again, “This is a pure space, how dare you!”

“Oh my god, fine- fine! Stop hitting me!”

“Then stop being nasty.”

“Babe, it’s so hard when you’re so hot.”

“I’m about to change my mind.”

  
“Babe- oof!” Hwa’s body lurches from being shoved. He crashes into a nearby shelf, nearly sending half of the neatly stacked books pouring out. He manages to catch one that tipped off just in the nick of time. Holding it up to the amber lamplight, he squints to read it.

The Sleeping Beauty.

A wave of nostalgia hits him. He remembers reading it a few times around the bonfire. He remembers having it thrown in his face, too, just minutes before being ousted for good - at least, he thought it was for good. Now reading the title doesn’t hit him with bitterness like it would have before.

“Hey, Joong,” Seonghwa says. “Wanna read a bedtime story?”

“A bedtime story?” The redhead leans over to read the cover.

“Like old times? We could light the fire and read a bit before heading back. Unless there was more you wanted to see.”

“Nah,” Hongjoong shakes his head. “This place seems pretty barren now. It’s like when I left so did everyone else. Even the mermaids are gone.”

“Yeah, I thought it was kind of strange,” Hwa shrugs. “Guess we won’t get interrupted, though.”

“Guess not.”

Hongjoong follows Seonghwa back up and out of the den. The two find some nearby timber and throw it into the fire pit. Carefully, Seonghwa removes the glass globe from the lantern and lowers the wick onto the kindling. The dry, brushy twigs ignite quickly, prompting Seonghwa to step back quickly. He takes his perch next to Hongjoong on a nearby log and watches the fire come to life.

The flames grow surprisingly fast. With little provocation and fuel, the fire quickly stretches higher and higher until it reaches heights like it did when it burned all those years ago. The orange light fills the clearing, illuminating the seats all around and the trees surrounding them. They both find themselves lost in the flames, and the book in Hongjoong’s hands remains unopened. 

Joong rests his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder and breaks the silence, “You know, when I was younger, I was weirdly possessive of this place.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa answers, wrapping an arm around the other’s waist.

“Yeah. I felt like Neverland was a world all my own. That it belonged to me and that I was just sharing it with a privileged few.”

“That’s…”

“Egotistical? Narcissistic?”

“I was gonna say interesting.”

Hongjoong chuckles, “That’s one way to describe it.”

“Well, I can see why you felt so possessive of it,” Seonghwa tries to give the other a bit of sympathy. “It was your home.”

“Yeah, but… I guess it’s just funny how that changed. Now we’re the only people here, and I wish it was different.”

“Do you miss the others that used to reside here, too?”

“Mm. Not exactly. It’s more like… I dunno. This place was a sanctuary for me to get away - for the other lost boys, too, I think. Even if they didn’t live here. Now it’s just kind of empty. Lifeless. I just… I don’t know how the magic of this place works.”

“Well, that’s why it’s magic, right?” Hwa posits. “Like, the point is we don’t understand it. We just believe.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I just hope that… That one day, another kid with faith, trust, and fairy dust finds this place when they need it the most. I hope they can have great adventures like we did, and that they’ll always feel safe and at home.”

“That’s unbelievably sweet.”

“Yeah, well, maybe the next kid who finds this place will do a little better at following the rules than I did.”

“Call me selfish, but I, for one, am very glad you broke the rules.”

“Sounds a little biased.”

“Just a little,” Seonghwa chuckles.

  
The couple lapse into a comfortable silence again. Seonghwa zones out, happily bathing in the heat of the fire and the other’s presence. There’s something ceaselessly soothing about a softly crackling fire. Seonghwa watches dazedly as amber flames dance in the dark night. The longer he sits, the more he realizes just how exhausted he is. Both he and Hongjoong had full days prior to their rooftop date. They’d flown god knows how far to reach Neverland and toured half of the place. Not to mention all of the ups and downs - physical and emotional - that they’d gone through. 

Hwa yawns, lazily tracing the fire’s glowing contours with his gaze. He watches the smoldering of the logs and runs his eyes run up, up, up - up from cool, blue light to brilliant white which then transitions to orange tipped with bright scarlet. Embers dance up from the crackling mass dancing in the night until flitting away between the trees and into the sky.

Seonghwa takes pause. He blinks a few times to wipe the bleariness from his eyes.

He observes the fire more closely, studying the movement of the embers. They begin in the belly of the fire before bursting up and flying away in every which direction. Except, unlike most embers, these ones don’t fade as they cool. They continue floating off into the night, a little sparkling speck in the darkness.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa elbows the other.

“Hm?”

“Joong- were you asleep?”

  
“Wh- No, I was thinking.”

“Joong, look at the fire.”

“Wha-?” The redhead yawns sleepily. “I’m looking at it. It’s very nice. Very pretty.”

“No, I mean, the embers, look at them,” Seonghwa points emphatically. “Don’t they look weird?”

“What’re you talking about?” Hongjoong sits up, stretching languidly. He wipes his eyes and watches the fire as instructed, probably thinking Hwa’s gone crazy. However, he quickly catches on, and his brows furrow curiously. “Oh my god,” He murmurs.

“What is it?” Seonghwa asks.

Joong stands up all of a sudden and walks closer to the fire. Seonghwa clamors to follow at the other’s tail, half scared the other is about to sleep walk into the damn flames. The fire pops loudly, and out burst another hundred or so tiny, glimmering embers. They flit every which way.

Hongjoong tries to catch one on his palm, and Seonghwa panics, “Wh- Hongjoong you’re gonna burn yourself!”

“Hwa, look!” Hongjoong says, his voice full of awe. He lifts his palm close to Seonghwa’s face.

The blond squints to get a good look at the speck of flaming dust. He wonders what the hell is so interesting about it and considers that Hongjoong might actually have gone mad.

“Oh my,” Hwa’s jaw drops. He expected to see a flaming speck of dust on Hongjoong’s palm. Instead, he makes out a miniscule glowing figure with tiny, almost invisble wings jutting out of its back. Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide open, “You don’t think- Is this a-”

“A baby fairy,” Hongjoong whispers. He looks down at the little fairy who seems to be rousing from having crashed into the human’s palm. The fairy rights itself and immediately flashes Hongjoong a dirty look. A few almost inaudible noises ring out from the fledgling. “I’m sorry,” Hongjoong answers it sheepishly - apparently understanding everything. “I didn’t mean to, I was just curious.”

The fairy makes a few exaggerated gestures of frustration before calming down.

“I’m Hongjoong and this is Seonghwa. Oh- We flew here. Yeah, second star to the right… I don’t know exactly how,” The redhead speaks quietly, probably so he doesn’t make the poor thing deaf with how big his voice is compared to them. “It’s nice to meet you, Tink.” He lifts his palm, and the glinting speck floats off into the sky, joining more like itself.

Seonghwa steps back and watches in wonderment. Knowing that embers are not coming from the fire but fairies - living, sentient, magical beings - so utterly amazes him, he can’t quite comprehend it. The fire spits up, releasing more and more fairies into Neverland. It’s beautiful, watching them join one another and fly away. The more that emerge, the more noise returns to the place. A variety of soft ringing noises fills the forest, mixing and melding into an almost melodic drone. Seonghwa wonders where they’re going. Are they all going to one place? Or are there many places? Perhaps they’re simply wandering, waiting for a place that calls out to them like Neverland called out to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong had a fairy friend, that Seonghwa recalls. The spark ignites in his head, and he gasps.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says. “Do you think we can find Maddox?”

“Hm?” Joong tears his eyes off of the procession of newborn fairies to look at the other confusedly.

“Maddox. Remember?”

“Wh- Of course I remember, but-”

“Well- D’you think we could find him? I mean- Look at all of those fairies.”

Hongjoong looks back up at the sky and shakes his head, “From what I know, fairies don’t necessarily have the longest life span.” He laughs wryly, “Anyways, Maddox was always a very adamant fairy. If he wanted to find me to find him, he probably wouldn’t have waited around. The truth is, I think that bottle of fairy dust is all I have left of him.”

“Oh. That’s grim.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Joong shrugs. “But I mean, ashes to ashes, dust to dust and all that.” He gazes at the fae procession again. “He’s gone, but life goes on. From the ashes of the fire, new life has been born. That’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa nods.

  
The two go quiet again, this time their own hush being filled in by the chatter of young fairies. It is beautiful, all of it, every single part. From catching a strange shadow in his bedroom to introducing himself to the redhead across the hall. Even the agony of separation - a memory that now feels like nothing but a far away ache - is beautiful to him.

“Hey, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says after a long spell of silence.

“Yeah, Hongjoong?”

The redhead rests his head on the blond’s shoulder, “I’m tired.”

“Yeah?” Hwa wraps his arm around Hongjoong’s shoulder, squeezing him and kissing his head.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Seonghwa’s heart nearly bursts at that. He blinks away the tears rushing to his eyes and nods.

“Okay,” Seonghwa replies. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Once upon a time, there lived a broken boy in a land much like any other.

The world dealt the boy a cruel hand in life. For many years, he knew nothing but neglect, abuse and disappointment. When it all became too much for the poor soul to bear, he ran away. With his faith in those around him diminished, he was left with no choice but to believe in magic.

Guided by a fairy, he found himself in a beautiful, far off place. Unlike those who had so let him down before, the magical place provided for him in every way possible - save for one. The boy lacked friends. With the help of faith, trust, and pixie dust, he braved the world he’d rejected and found others like him - wayward souls who needed more from life.

Those lost boys embarked on many adventures with one another, all abiding by the single rule: never grow up.

However, fate had other plans for the broken boy and his band of misfits.

When a strange, new feeling began to bloom in his heart, the leader didn’t know what to do. Upset and confused, he pushed those closest to him away, until even the world itself dilapidated around him.

By the time the broken boy acknowledged what it was that had caused him to grow, it was too late. He had broken the rules of the place he held dear. Once again he found himself ousted into the sick, cruel world he’d known before.

Desperate and bitter, the boy clung to the memory of that place with a vice. In spite of his great efforts, many of those fond memories slipped through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. The boy feared he would have to give up on that place for good. 

Then, he remembered a name.

The boy followed that name and the slight ache he felt with it. He chased that memory relentlessly until finally coming face to face with the person to whom that name belonged. Suddenly, those treacherous feelings - the ones that had caused his life to fall to ruin - returned.

It had been love, the boy realized. What had turned the page on that chapter in his life had been love. Beautiful, heart-wrenching, knee-buckling, pure love. 

The boy briefly held out hope that he could repair what had once been lost. However, his there was distrust between them. Upon discovering how the boy had doggedly pursued him, his love scorned him.

Yet again, the boy found himself rejected, turned away. He cursed his love and he cursed that land, the one place he felt that he’d belonged, for casting him out.

That boy - once full of laughter and overflowing with magic - found himself on the precipice of utter despair. Just as he tossed away his hope of ever finding anywhere he felt content and at home, his love returned. For his love felt just as strongly as the boy did himself. In spite of everything, their adoration for one another endured. The boy ran to his love, and his love welcomed him graciously with open arms. 

No longer shackled by fears or doubts, the two forged a bond stronger than ever. Desire and envy for a time past diminished, and the boy started to find beauty and magic in his common life. Though he no longer soared across the skies or hunted for treasure, he found enchantment in the way his love’s lips curved when he smiled or in the budding of flowers as winter turned to spring.

With overwhelming love and just a sprinkle of fairy dust, the boy took to the sky once more. He and his love soared across the sky, weaving between stars, and at the end of their journey they found that place once more.

The life the boy led had been wrought with unhappiness, and he came to be all too familiar with oppression.

In spite of his will and greatest efforts, the boy did grow up into a man.

Everything had gone against what he had hoped and planned for his life.

Yet, everything turned out so, so much better than he had ever dreamed of.

The man and his love studied arcane knowledge and explored strange places. The new menagerie with which they aligned themselves never lacked in humor or spirit. Together, they endured great trials and confronted evils more ferocious than ever before. No matter the ordeal, their care for one another assured they made it through.

Though his new life was by no means a trifle, the man wouldn’t have it any other way. Before him, he had a long life and a brave new world to explore. He had great friends and an even greater love.

That feeling he thought to be his heart’s greatest betrayal ultimately guided him to the most blissful joy he ever knew. And should the man ever feel lost or confused, all he had to do was look into his love’s eyes and there he would find home. No matter how much the two grew up, their belief in magic never wavered. 

Upon the occasions that one or the other wanted for that land, they knew what to do.

Hand in hand, the two followed the light of the second star to the right.

And they lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // i like planned an epilogue then i was like too lazy to do it so yeah
> 
> tysm for reading yall!!!

**Author's Note:**

> // i wrote this at like 2am bc our air conditioning was broken and its like 40C/104F outside so my brain was kentucky fried and as things often do for me it escalated


End file.
